Protecting the Lion
by DB2020
Summary: Between love and hate, extremes collide. An ice prince too cold for anyone but a hot tempered exknight to touch, and danger that is paramount when more than one man tries to claim the Balamb Lion. Reunited rivals will write their own story together.
1. Chapter 1

**Revamp notice: There is nothing new about this story, I've just gone through and begun to edit it a bit. Hopefully, it's a bit more polished.**

**Disclaimer**: Fanfiction is by fans for fans. I do not financially profit from this story, nor do I own the characters or any copyrights to Final Fantasy VIII.

**Warning**: This is meant for adult audiences. Protecting the Lion contains sexual themes and scenes ranging from mildly graphic to very graphic descriptions of a homosexual pairing. This is a Seifer/Squall fanfiction. For anyone unaware of the general rule of thumb regarding top and bottom summary pairings (top/bottom, topXbottom), Seifer is top and Squall is bottom.

**Author's Notes: **I hope you enjoy this story. Protecting the Lion is fifty chapters long. The story arc continues on in the sequel Strings Attached, which has thirty-seven chapters. Both Protecting the Lion and Strings Attached are complete and up for full viewing.

Chapter One

Visitors From the Past

Dull chatter sounded through the dimly lit bar in Timber. Still early in the day, a handful of denizens were scattered about, breaking the five o'clock drinking rule and keeping the proprietor in business.

No one in the bar had woken up with the intention of flitting the day away while carrying a light buzz, but since no one had halted the press to inform the citizens that the celebration was over, rejoicing with friends and a six pack continued to be the favored pass time. The war was over. Ultimecia was dead. Calling off of work and throwing back a few shots was the only logical course of action.

The same stories were told over and over, passing from one ear to the next, each time altering slightly. Everyone knew the key facts regarding the war, even if those facts were buried beneath the grand adjectives of wild storytelling. There had been a handful of elite fighters, which many forgot to label 'mercenaries' since 'defenders of the free world' was so much more heartwarming. Sometimes, the rumors depicted a single fighter who was the incarnation of the lost guardian force Griever. Whether it was a group of ten or six or four, one name was never left out; Squall Leonhart was not a variable to be switched in and out, no matter how the drunk the loudmouthed bard might be.

Squall Leonhart was a real life superhero, catapulted into stardom by millions of grateful and love struck fans. Balamb Garden's commander was an enigma, and even the most outrageous rumors of the teenager's abilities were not very from the mark. While Commander Leonhart had not called upon the power of Hyne, mystic beings with powerful magic had been involved. Guardian forces were commonplace for SeeD, but civilians weren't as desensitized to the nature of fighting and magic.

At the tender age of seventeen, merely a kid on many accounts, Commander Leonhart had saved the world. His strength was unmatchable.

Gulping down a warming drink of whiskey, a young blond haired man let his eyes skim over the latest news article written about the world's savior. Jade-green eyes narrowed as they fell lower on the page and saw a black and white photo, slightly blurred and definitely not consensual. Dark hair, that he knew to be a rich brown in color, framed the head of the commander, while a gloved hand pinched the bridge of a delicately cut nose. From what the picture captured, the subject's brows were furrowed in anger or frustration, he didn't know which since the eyes and rest of the face were obscured. Squall seemed to be turning away, obviously not wanting his photo taken.

The article was one of many that had given a poor account of the most recent sorceress war and Leonhart's role in it. Worse still was the author's speculative insight into the mind of the young commander. It was a pathetic attempt to make rumors into facts, an attempt to make it seem like the writer actually knew Leonhart personally.

The blond haired man scoffed and tossed the paper aside, downing the last of his glass. Standing up, he grabbed a long folded trench coat from the barstool beside him. After retrieving some gil from his pocket, he set the coins on the counter with a clank and left.

The moment the door was opened, his ears were flooded with the noise from the crowded streets. Timber was unusually crowded; a tourist season he supposed.

The wind was frigid, though the air itself wasn't cold enough to make his breath visible. Holding out the long black trench coat, he slid into the worn material with practiced ease. Standing out in a crowd was not a smart move for Seifer Almasy to make, but he had little choice. Whether he wore unremarkable clothes or blinding sequence sewn into every inch of fabric, his six foot two inch frame and golden blond hair didn't give him much of an option. He could dye his hair, walk with a hunch, and never let a person meet his bright green-eyed gaze, but his overpowering presence would never go unnoticed. As a result of his inability to successfully remain disguised, he'd become nomadic. As much as Squally-boy was a hero, he was twice the villain.

Beneath his heavy coat, he wore faded dark blue jeans and a forest green V-neck sweater. He at least tried to blend in and perhaps buy himself an extra few days without word spreading of his whereabouts. Not all villains were brainless idiots who succumbed to defeat at the end of the story. He was not an idiot. He had kept his head above water for the past six months since the war ended, and he had no intention of giving anyone the satisfaction of punishing him.

His life was somewhat distressing, but he had no recollection of happier times, so he wasn't complaining. There was no rhyme or reason anymore, no point, no worth. He knew this, but it was his life and he wasn't finished living it yet.

Brooding, his gate steadily slowed. Steps finally faltering to a standstill, he raised his head and his eyes left the cobble-stoned sidewalk. Observing his surroundings, passersby on each side, he glanced at a shop window and regarded himself. Handsome features were dour and once vibrant eyes were almost lackluster. His hair was a bit shaggy, falling unnaturally at a length too long to be gelled back. A stern and ever proud jaw was firm with lips drawn thin. He couldn't quite identify with himself anymore.

Sighing, he tore his gaze away and continued walking. He was on his way back to his hotel. He hadn't found what he was looking for in Timber. He suspected his search for the passion he'd lost had very little to do with the world around him and everything to do with his downtrodden spirit. He was a fighter through and through. Currently, there was nothing for him to fight and no future prospect that included anyone allowing him to be the mercenary he'd spent his life training to be.

Having all but given up, he had developed somewhat of an obsession with Leonhart's life. On some level, he was jealous, but too proud to admit it. He followed the stories, every article and gossip column he could get his hands on. He sometimes wondered if Leonhart ever thought about him, whether he was still alive or not. He highly doubted it.

Timber wasn't necessarily a familiar place. The shops and street names were only vaguely engrained in his memory, and that was mostly because of his rival's current girlfriend. Rinoa Heartily had dragged him from place to place, shopping and chatting to her heart's content.

Laughing dryly he wondered if old Squally-boy suffered such a fate. Caraway's princess had been insufferable at times. It was ironic that Rinoa was now with Leonhart. If he weren't aware of how grueling being the commander must be, he'd have felt jilted out of life that should have been his. He had been the promising cadet, regardless of his issues with authority. He had been actively involved in Timber's plight for independence, even if it had only been for the sake of getting laid.

Seifer nearly passed his hotel while lost in reverie. It would seem he'd taken on a bit of Leonhart's habit. Grimacing, he realized how horribly depressing that was.

A newsstand in the lobby held stacks of papers and shelves of magazines. Several caught his eye, covers graced with Commander Leonhart's picture, but he had already read them all. Staring vacantly, he noted how the more recent photos, quickly and greedily snapped during public appearances and speeches, seemed to show a waning young man. There were shadows beneath those grey-blue eyes and that pretty boy face was almost gaunt.

Concern flashed through him, not for the first time, as he wondered whether his rival's new lifestyle was too demanding. Knowing Leonhart, the stubborn ice prince would give no complaint and work until death came knocking. It didn't seem to matter that Leonhart had fought to defeat Ultimecia and headed an entire garden facility. He suspected the amount of responsibility only continued to increase exponentially, playing against every introverted fiber of the younger boy's nature. Leonhart's situation was far more depressing that his own, of that he had little doubt.

Cid should have returned and taken over as headmaster, Seifer concluded.

He was practically counting the days down to when he would spot an article about the emotional breakdown of the world's number one idol.

The whistling choo-choo train sounded from across the lobby, breaking his concentration before he could begin brooding again. Not giving his surroundings a second glance, he walked toward the lobby barrier, the bar separating guests from outsiders, and into a common room.

Weaving through the area scattered with small round tables, he took to the stairs two at a time. Nearing the top, he halted abruptly. His senses were going off. His mind began to race through his entire day thus far, searching for some sign of what was off. No faces in the crowd, no shadows lurking in the alley, no whispered rumors flying about his presence in Timber. Still uncertain as to what he should expect, he proceeded cautiously. It wouldn't be the first time he returned to his hotel room to find unwelcome guests.

An attempt on his life was not uncommon. The only part that didn't sit well was his inability to know if he was simply being paranoid or if something was truly awry. Usually people came at him in public, not behind closed doors. He was careful with keeping his cover and never lingered in one place for too long.

Unarmed, his sword stored in his room, he was reluctant to storm in and face whoever might be in there. Sidling along the wall until he was outside his room, he reached a hand out and turned he knob. It was unlocked, confirming his suspicions. Now the question was how many were inside?

Letting the door swing open a little, he listened intently for any sounds within. It was some moments before he heard anything. A soft rustling of fabric, then couple muffled steps. He continued to wait, not confident he could assume there was only one person.

Seifer wasn't exactly worried, since he could more than hold his own. Nonetheless, he was prudent for safety's sake. With the door ajar, he would be noticed any moment, which meant making a decision quickly. Deciding to rush the person who placed to be just beyond the entryway, he turned and threw the door the rest of the way open. Stalking in, he was about to land a swift blow to a head of silver hair, when his fist faltered in recognition and he nearly toppled over with carried momentum.

"Fucking hell," he growled out as he stumbled to regain his footing and moved past his previous target. Straightening up and self-consciously ruffling his coat, he exhaled in a gruff sigh. "What the hell are you doing here?" His tone was not welcoming, though that was mainly the result of having just tried to knock the silver haired woman out cold.

"TOO RELAXED," her terse voice cried in greeting, just before the chilling sound of sharp metal cut through the air.

Seifer managed to duck the attack, watching the pinwheel swipe narrowly overhead. While he would have liked to ask her why she was attacking, he knew there would be little time to counter before her next assault.

Crouched low, he extended his leg out and swept the butch woman off her feet. She went down with a hard thud, but was hardly down for the count. Not a ruthless person, at least not towards Fujin, Seifer was unwilling to seriously hurt his former comrade. He sat atop her, his weight effectively pinning her down while he remained free to conduct an interrogation. He suspected Raijin was nearby, but he was willing to bet his life that the large brute was too loyal to ever attack him.

Not masking his annoyance at Fujin's less than friendly greeting, Seifer growled, "Whatever happened to 'long time no see'?" A warm smile crossed pale lips and a single red eye lit up in joy. Seifer noted how the body beneath him relaxed, signaling the end of the assault. "Yeah, nice to see you too," he remarked sarcastically as he read her face and stood up. "Where's Raijin?" he asked, knowing the duo were inseparable.

Clunky footsteps thudded behind him, coming from the bedroom.

"That you Seifer?" came the burly man's rough voice. Raijin came out of the bedroom with a smirk on his face. Sheepishly, he his grin widened and he scratched his jet-black hair.

Seifer had the distinct impression that had Fujin not been there to kick the large man's shin, Raijin would have tried to hug him. "I should cut you two up for breaking in here," he bit out angrily, only half as annoyed as he let on.

"Hey now, we had to know you were on your toes now, ya know?" Raijin defended.

Before Seifer could turn and give Raijin an incredulous look Fujin piped in, "AFFIRMATIVE."

Confused, Seifer failed to see why his posse needed to test him. "What's it to you if I'm still as skilled as ever?" he questioned in his usual smarmy and cocky tone.

Fujin spoke, "You've been gone for some time and a lot has changed." Her tone was not the usual hoarse shout, but soft and eloquent.

Raising his eyebrows in response, not sure he could truly express his shock at this sudden change in a woman he'd known for so many years, Seifer almost gaped. Raijin had once told him that Fujin's impediment was intentional, but they'd both been drunk and he hadn't believed it.

Smiling, the silver haired woman raised a hand to adjust her eye patch before taking a seat on the nearby couch. "You're surprised," she said with underlying mirth. "I won't explain myself, there are more important matters at hand."

Glancing at Raijin, Seifer saw the large man leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, obviously acknowledging that Fujin would be the director of this conversation. Giving a slight nod, he resigned himself to hearing out why they had come. "Okay, you've got my attention," he said, taking a seat in the chair across from Fujin.

"You're a difficult man to track down," Fujin began, still smiling like she held some secret.

Scoffing, Seifer returned, "That's the point of not wanting to be found."

"You don't need to hide." Though Fujin's smile faded slightly, her eye still sparkled.

Raijin jumped in. "Yeah, ya know? I mean people understand and stuff. Like, they know how a war is, and at Garden no one seems to even care. Though, I think that's just 'cause-"

Fujin cut him off. "SECRET," she said tersely, silencing Raijin immediately and causing the blond to eye her keenly. Her body had gone stiff at her reversion. After settling and relaxing a bit, her new manner resumed. "The point is you don't need to be in hiding."

Thinking for a moment, Seifer analyzed his actions over the past six months. He wasn't afraid of the general population's anger or wrath. Even if they tried to kill him in return for what he'd done, he was a strong man and wouldn't be taken down easily. The issue keeping him from returning to the one place he belonged wasn't fear of being unwelcome. "I'm not in hiding," he said flatly, still half in thought. In truth, there had only been a few outbursts from scornful survivors, not nearly as many as he would have expected considering his role in the war was no secret.

Fujin gave the ex-knight a critical look before accepting the man's words. Seifer Almasy was not a man to be analyzed. There was often no explanation for his abrasive actions, at least no reasoning that another person could understand. "I suppose we could have found you at any time if we really wanted to." While such a fact remained unproven, she had spoken in jest.

"Naturally," Seifer commented in mock affirmation. "I'm sure you two haven't spent the last three months tracking me down."

"Well, ya know, it's like we knew you needed your space and all, so we like didn't interfere," Raijin supplied almost apologetically.

Raijin's words made Seifer doubt how serious Fujin had been. Perhaps the duo had known his of his whereabouts for some time, not making contact so that he could brood and get over his contempt at losing. Brows furrowing, his lips frowned petulantly. "Nice to know you cared."

"Hey now, we knew you wanted to be alone, ya know," Raijin defended pushing off from against the wall and straightening his large frame.

Chuckling, Seifer replied, "I'm messing with you." While he was truly elated to see his friends again, he wasn't ready to go back anywhere. He didn't exactly feel like catching up on old times either. He was more interested in knowing why Raijin and Fujin had chosen to show up all of a sudden. "Why are you here now?" he asked seriously. He became more curious when he saw Fujin's jaw clench slightly. Now he just had to know what was up.

Walking around the back of the couch, Raijin sat next to Fujin. After slouching and stretching his legs out, he spoke rather quietly, "We came to ask ya back to Garden." The large man flinched as he received a sharp kick to his shin from the cold woman beside him.

"MORON," Fujin cried. "We didn't come here to ask anyone anything," she scolded before turning her focus back to Seifer. "We know you are off doing your own thing. We respect that and didn't want to get involved." Her red eye searched his jade green ones for a moment. "This wasn't what we planned. Raijin and I knew you would come back to us eventually, but there have been some developments and you're the only person we can trust for the job."

The one eyed woman's vague explanation left Seifer with his brows drawn down in confused thought. He couldn't fathom what possible developments Fujin was referring to. He had always had their trust, but couldn't imagine what required his trustworthy assistance.

"We don't want to ask you back." Fujin glanced to the man beside her. "We want to hire you for a job."

Green eyes widened slightly, only to resume an impassive and guarded gaze a moment later. "I'm not a SeeD. If you want a mercenary, you just need to knock on any garden's door."

Fujin's silver hair swayed as she shook her head.

"Heh, guess you don't know that we have more at our disposal than that," Raijin jibed with a nudge to Fujin's side.

Sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose, Fujin shook her head in resigned annoyance. It would seem she was too used to Raijin's dimwitted comments to say anything. When her attention returned to Seifer she was mildly surprised to see him looking down to the floor almost dejectedly.

It was more than odd for Seifer to feel such hollow longing, but the moment he had caught sight of Fujin pinching her nose, he had immediately thought of Squall and how the brunet would always display such similar mannerisms of annoyed frustration. Reminded of his rival, his breathing felt restricted.

When a prolonged silence fell over the three of them, Seifer knew he should say something. "What's at your 'disposal'?" he inquired half-heartedly.

It was another moment before anyone spoke, but Fujin finally decided to forget Seifer's sudden change in demeanor. "We're instructors now. We've been working with the commander."

Raijin rushed to add, "We'll always be your posse though, ya know? It's just, while you've been gone we're sortta workin' with the commander and his crew."

Seifer made a conscious effort not to let his jaw hit the floor.

Seeing the blond's reaction Fujin explained, "Leonhart kept it quiet though. He didn't think the public would take too kindly to it. Most of the locals know and they don't seem to care either way."

Seifer couldn't help the increasing restriction he was feeling in his chest. He didn't want to hear his rival mentioned anymore. "What the hell do you need me to do that you can't get one of your students to do?" he snapped, suddenly losing patience.

Again shaking her head, Fujin tried her best to say it all without running the ex-knight off. "It isn't the type of job we'd give a rookie."

"No, rookies? Then get Chicken-wuss or Trepe," Seifer countered, running a hand through his golden hair.

"It's complicated Seifer." Fujin's voice was almost pleading. "We need someone different, someone stronger. We've come to a general agreement that you'd be the best man for the job."

"I'm not so much stronger than the rest of his highness' merry bunch of followers," Seifer pointed out. He knew he was being unreasonable, rejecting the offer before even knowing what it was.

"It's more than that," was Fujin's only reply.

Humoring the forthright woman, Seifer kept his calm and masked his impatience. Speaking candidly, he muttered, "Fu, just tell me what you want and then fill in the blanks when I ask questions."

Sharing a brief look of apprehension with Raijin, Fujin said, "We want to hire you as Commander Leonhart's bodyguard."

The dead silence that followed was broken only by Seifer's laughter. He seemed so amused that Raijin followed with his own nervous chuckling.

"I'm serious," Fujin remarked, effectively bringing the ex-knight's laughing to a halt.

Green eyes were dubious. "You can't be serious," Seifer refuted. "Leonhart is the last person on this planet who would need my protection. I don't admit this easily, but he beat me."

"Yeah, but like, he had his friends with him, ya know," Raijin said, as if pointing out the obvious.

"He might have had them with him, but in the end it was him who was pulling all the punches." Seifer leaned back into his chair, truly at a loss.

"You know we wouldn't have come if we weren't desperate," Fujin said with true concern.

Somehow, it still didn't seem right that Raijin and Fujin were among the inner circle of SeeDs who worked closely with the world's favorite little hero. Seifer wondered if he would have also been accepted if he had gone back. Would he have been as readily accepted as his posse? More pertinent, what was so distressing in the world of sunshine and rainbows that Leonhart would need his protection? It would certainly be a story worth hearing. "Tell me, why would Leonhart need a caretaker?"

Raijin seemed to stiffen slightly and Fujin gave him a somewhat reprimanding look.

Seifer swore that the burly man had seemed angry at his words. Eyebrows rising, he was incredulous at the influence Leonhart had over his most loyal followers.

Solemn, Fujin showed no sign of her earlier excitement. "We aren't here to beg, but Quistis asked us to at least make the request. She thought that if anyone could sway your mind it would be us," she explained.

"Yeah, like ya know, Trepe is all worried and the like. She was practically in tears when she asked us," Raijin said, waving his hand in emphasis.

"Instructor Trepe was crying over getting me to come back?" Seifer remarked with firm disbelief. Though he would love to hold something over Trepe's head, he doubted the blonde instructor had been crying.

"_Almost_ crying," Fujin corrected. "She was really upset. Everyone is, sort of."

"Sort of?" Seifer queried, acutely aware that there was a lot going on that he didn't know about.

"Well, if you ask me, they're not doing anything themselves because they don't want to handle him like that. Not to mention everyone would rather ignore that anything is wrong."

Seifer stopped trying to read Fujin's body language, he was unable to pick up on anything else. He glanced at his watch. It was a little after five o'clock. He wanted to be gone by six. Sighing, he hinted at his want for haste, "Fujin, just tell me what the hell you want me to do and why." He very nearly growled his words out.

"Same old Seifer," the crimson-eyed woman began, but hurried at the angry glare she was given. "Squall isn't doing well," she blurted out. "His duties are above and beyond the call of what a normal person can handle. He goes everyday without the help of anyone. According to Quistis, he doesn't eat or sleep right, and there is always some emergency whenever he's finally off duty. According to the database, he's somehow clocking at least fifteen hours of fighting time in the training center each week, which probably means he's actually not sleeping at all."

When Fujin had taken a pause from her rant, Seifer thought she was finished and was about to tell her he wasn't a babysitter.

Cutting the blond off, Fujin continued, "That's been the normal routine up until a month ago." She glanced at Raijin. "We didn't return to Garden until a four months ago ourselves, and even then the commander seemed overworked. If anyone actually says something, it's all bark and no bite. Everyone seems to think Kramer is going to return any day now, but it's been 'any day now' for since the war first ended. Frankly, I don't think the old headmaster is ever coming back." She sighed. "Two months ago, Kramer did come by, but left rather quickly for some vacation in Centra."

"Yeah, so like, he's been given the extra work permanently, ya know?" Raijin said with obvious concern. "It ain't right bein' both a headmaster and commander, ya know? Plus there's all this political crap with Galbadia refusing to acknowledge his authority on account of him being too young. He can't take a piss without the press wanting to know about it. It's just all so ridiculous, ya know?"

Though Seifer was far from revealing how he felt, he was oddly moved by what his posse had told him. While he wasn't going to say he was worried or that he even remotely cared, he expressed some interest. "You say Cid left two months ago, but something in Leonhart's routine changed a month ago. What did you mean?"

"It hasn't been officially announced-" the red-eyed woman prompted, but was cut off by the blond.

"Nothing is ever announced unless it's something good. I assume no one knows that an eighteen year old boy isn't heading Balamb Garden on a temporary basis."

Nodding in agreement, Fujin continued, "Rinoa's been missing for over three weeks."

Afraid that his friends might catch on to any sign of his concern, Seifer tried to steer the conversation away from his rival. Though his heart was beating a little faster than he cared for, he appeared as uncaring as always. Rolling his eyes, he asked, "So what's Trepe got her panties in a twist about to try and get me back? In case you didn't know, I'm not exactly her favorite person."

Fujin shrugged. "Neither of us can really say. I mean, we work with the commander in the sense that we take orders. We hang out with the others sometimes, but not Squall. Whatever Quistis wants, she'll have to tell you herself."

Nodding in agreement, Raijin said, "Yeah, ya know. We were just given the condensed version to give you. She, like, wants you to come back, cause she said you're the only one who can be his bodyguard."

"Well, you've told me everything except why he would need a bodyguard to begin with," Seifer stated.

"We don't know why. I just told you what I know from my own observations and the frequent comments Quistis makes."

Frowning, Seifer was disapproving of the unknown circumstances. "Does Trepe really think I'd return after all this time just because she's worried that Leonhart is on the verge of breaking down?" he said, feigning offense.

Smirking, Fujin stood up, causing the dark haired man to look at her in confusion. The big guy wasn't sure what he should do, but eventually settled for following her lead. The two of them walked towards the doorway. It wasn't until Fujin had the door open that she turned back and said, "But, you're coming anyway aren't you." It wasn't a question.

Smirking in return, Seifer ran a hand through his hair and gave her the cockiest look he could. "Wouldn't miss a chance to rub salt in Leonhart's wounds." Taking a moment to consider his choice, he added, "Trepe better have more answers when I get there."

Fujin was nearly out the door when she answered, "AFFIRMATIVE."

TBC… please review…

**ATTENTION all grammar savvy readers!** The capitalizing of titles has been a matter of uncertainty for me. Following the advice of readers and what I've researched, I am not capitalizing 'commander' when it is not spoken or placed before a specific name. This was the same rule I followed for 'president', but I recently learned that this is incorrect. As ruler of a country, it should be 'the President' since it is obviously referring to a specific person. Granted the positions are not the same, but I'm inclined to thinking 'commander' should also be capitalized under the same rule. However, according to the military titles guide I read, it is not to be capitalized under any circumstance outside of dialogue or preceding a name, even if a specific person is implied. If anyone is _**absolutely**_certain how these titles are supposed to be capitalized, I would greatly appreciate an email.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **I reworked sentences, grammar, word choice, and lopped off a lot of unnecessary parts. Nonetheless, there are still many accidental errors. Typos, words left in that don't belong, words left out, my bad habit of overusing the comma, and the ever-persistent improper grammar that my eyes didn't catch. Unless there is an issue that you feel strongly about or distracts from the storyline, then please just overlook the minor mistakes.

Chapter Two 

Intruder of Dreams

In Balamb Garden there weren't many places where someone seeking solitude could go. The lights were perpetually bright, almost invasive at times, and the halls were always milling with cadets and instructors. Night or day, it never ended.

Squall Leonhart had lived in Balamb Garden for most of his life and his surroundings had only seemed slightly annoying. Now it was practically intolerable. Though he had been in office half a year already, he had realized rather quickly that his duties did not follow a nine to five schedule. It was rare that he had enough time to return to his own rooms for sleep. Usually, he wound up catching an hour here and there on the couch in his office.

The commander was relieved to be returning to his private quarters with a whopping five hours before he needed to return to the office. It was a rare occasion indeed. His feet were on autopilot, navigating his way from the headmaster's office on the second floor to the instructor's dormitories on the first.

Quistis would scold him again for leaving after the midnight curfew. The head instructor seemed to have spies all over Balamb Garden, because she managed to find out everything he did and the time it was done.

He had been hulled up in his stifling office for two whole days. Truthfully, he had been looking forward to a weekend off, but last Friday he had received an urgent call. There was news from a dispatch near Winhill, reporting on a rumored spotting of Rinoa.

There was nothing more he wanted to do than go into the field and lead the search for his girlfriend, but it simply wasn't an option. His titles dictated his actions. There was too much work. He wondered how much of a bastard that made him. Rinoa was missing and all he could think of was work. Despite not heading the search party, he was doing all he could to bring her back safely. He had poured all his reserved energies into finding her. There were no signs of kidnapping, which left a relieving yet crushing truth. She had most likely left on her own. While a kidnapping hadn't been ruled out, it had almost been a month without anyone attempting extortion.

Rinoa had made many enemies simply by being Squall's girlfriend. Not many people were in favor of the relationship. Rinoa was a sorceress, so their matching wasn't exactly reassuring.

He had sent spare forces off to various regions to gather what information they could. With no ransom demands of any sort, he could only assume she was out there somewhere on her own.

Last Friday a team of trainees had reported hearing a rumor running through Winhill. Supposedly, there had been a strange girl who had passed through. She hadn't been a local and one person interviewed had remarked that the girl resembled Rinoa Heartilly. Though dark hair and dark eyes were hardly unique features, it was the only lead Squall had received.

The lead in Winhill had come in two days ago. It was Sunday night, or rather Monday morning since it was after midnight. Squall had been forced to call it quits. His body was about to collapse, not caring if he slept on his desk or the floor. The rumor had turned out to be just that. The public was finally noticing Rinoa's absence and he could expect a flood false reports.

Before he knew it, he was standing outside of his door. Raising a gloved hand to his mouth he placed a finger to his teeth before biting on the worn leather and pulling it off. There was a fingerprint scanner. He didn't think it was necessary to have such a security device for his own room, especially in a place like a garden, but Quistis had insisted.

The door slid open, revealing a dark room. Taking a couple steps in, his boots were soundless on the hard floor. The door closed automatically behind him, leaving him in blessed darkness. Giving a relieved sigh, he bent down and began to take his boots off. Shrugging out of his coat on his way past the couch, he tossed the worn leather garment onto it. His eyes began to focus, allowing for a shadow cast room to come into focus.

Once in his bedroom he cast aside his gloves on the nearby dresser and set his hands to work on unbuckling his many belts. Though six belts weren't by any means necessary, they had their uses. One of the two that crossed over his hips kept extra bullet rounds, while the three that wrapped around a lean thigh acted as sheath for a dagger. There was of course the belt around his waist, which helped to keep his pants on after losing what little weight he had to spare. And finally, the belt that held Lionheart secured to his hip at all times.

His gunblade was like an extension of himself and rested as though it belonged. His graceful movements were not hindered by his weapon's bulky presence. It belonged with him and being without it felt wrong. He couldn't very well sleep with it though, especially not when Rinoa spent the night. The last belt he undid was the one securing his blade. He carefully, almost lovingly, placed it in its mounted case. The dagger was something he could take with him. Being a SeeD, he was never without some weapon at all times.

The few steps he took towards his bed felt like he had led weights around his ankles. Collapsing onto the soft mattress, he crawled towards the pillows, but failed to make it before he gave up.

Still clutching the dagger, his body fell into sweet oblivion, curling up into itself for warmth. Vaguely, before his mind was swept away he heard soft purring. It was Rinoa's cat. With her gone, he had been left to take care of it. Though the damn creature seemed so fond of him anyway, it might as well have been his to begin with.

Half asleep upon entering his apartment, Squall was soon asleep entirely.

There was blissful silence. His dreams were often set in darkness and absolute quiet. There had been a time when he had feared it, but it was now his refuge.

--

Standing motionless in the black void, a cold wind swept over him. As the wind picked up, the empty darkness was replaced. Snow was falling, scattered flakes eventually coming down in heavy drifts that were in stark contrast to the darkness. Gazing up, Squall watched as the black became a deep navy blue. A sky had materialized out of nowhere. Unable to catch every change, not entirely certain it hadn't been instantaneous, he soon found himself surrounded by a snowy expanse.

Smiling faintly, Squall took a deep breath of crisp, clean air. As he let it out, his breath was visible in misty puffs. The wind died down, carrying a soft voice before the air became still. Scanning the horizon, grey-blue eyes found snow blanketing every direction. As a flake touched his lip, he licked it, tasting an abnormal sweetness. His smile widened as he heard her voice calling to him again.

Her voice was melodious and hypnotizing, drawing him to her. Squall began the trek through the ankle deep snow. Every direction was flat except for one. There was a steep hill, on top of which stood a crooked tree.

That was where she would be. Shiva was waiting for him.

The distance was short and soon Squall was taking the last few approaching steps toward the tree. Bare branches held stacks of snow, decorating every inch from the thick main limbs to the small tips. Walking around the thick trunk, Shiva finally came into view. Though her back was to him, he knew she was smiling. Her pale blue skin was lustrous. Her long hair fluttered as another breeze swept past them. Finally her head turned and he saw for himself the knowing and gentle smile her lips held.

Turning to face him, she raised an arm out to him. "Come her my lion," she urged.

Silently, Squall moved closer. Though it wasn't the first time he had met his faithful Guardian Force in such a manner, he was always surprised by how she looked up close. It was one thing to see her in battle, but completely another to stand before her. She was quite tall, several inches taller than he was.

The boy's expression was indifferent as Shiva's hand cupped his cheek and her thumb traced up and down across his cheek. Her electric blue eyes held his for a long moment. Guiltily, the fighter dropped his gaze to the snow covered ground. "So tired. Why must you push yourself?" she spoke softly.

When they had last met, Squall's guardian force had urged him to take more time to rest and heal. He had said that he would do what he could, but that had been before the rumor of Rinoa's whereabouts reached him. "Rinoa's still missing," Squall said quietly, not trying to make excuses.

Shiva's thumb stilled for a moment. "There is more. I can see it in the eyes of the young Trepe woman." She chuckled softly at the wide-eyed look of surprise her lion gave. "Sweet boy, you cannot hide anything from me."

"No," Squall agreed, finally raising his head again and looking into her eyes. Shiva was his closest confidant. She was irreplaceable in his life.

Since before the war Shiva had been by his side. She understood him perfectly. Though it was odd to form such strong bonds with a Guardian Force, it felt so natural. During the war, when he worked tirelessly to become stronger, Shiva's bond had helped him. The deeper their relationship, the better they fought together. They had become so close that he couldn't stand to part with her after the war, so she had remained junctioned ever since.

As Shiva stared, Squall felt obligated to tell her exactly what was going on. "There have been more incidences lately. I can handle myself though, it's not a problem." Though Shiva was with him all the time, her presence was usually in the back of his mind, in a dormant state. She was capable of knowing everything, but respected his privacy.

The incidences Squall referred to were recent break-ins. Introverted by nature and choice, he loathed being in the public's eye. Sadly, according to Selphie Tilmitt, he was loved by the public. As a result, he had gained many fans. Subsequently, he also gained many enemies.

Though Squall didn't consider it a major issue, someone had inside information and had actually infiltrated Balamb Garden. Not knowing who it was, there was no way to definitively say it wasn't someone on the inside already. Quite honestly, he didn't care. It had nothing to do with his job as commander or headmaster. His better judgment told him that there was no real threat to the security of his garden or cadets living there.

Quistis had been the one to bring the matter to his attention. The head instructor handled most of his affairs. She organized his schedule and prioritized the problems brought to his attention. For the sake of not worrying him unnecessarily, the dutiful instructor had kept the matter silent until a few weeks ago. Apparently the perpetrator, who had made a flawless escape, had reached his private quarters, leaving behind a package. Considering he so rarely returned to his apartment, he hadn't even been the first to receive the package. Not exactly harmless, the small box had been cleverly rigged to release a small explosion of a powder. The powder had been identified as a rather powerful toxin that paralyzed the body almost instantly, especially when inhaled. In small a dose, which was what had been in the package, it only lasted a few hours, but was not something that could be counteracted by any known antidote or potion.

Squall had seen that Quistis was seriously distraught over it. He hadn't asked for details, because in all honesty his mind was focused elsewhere and had little time to spare for some person who was leaving him messages and breaking into his past files in the computer's mainframe. It wasn't as though he had anything to hide and he wasn't exactly surprised that someone was trying to get close after his pictures had spent far too many months on the front page of every newspaper.

Breaking the silence, Shiva spoke, "I worry for you. You must take care."

"Always," he replied, his eyes focusing again on his surroundings and his Guardian Force.

"Rest my child," she whispered softly, placing a kiss to his temple.

Smiling again, Squall nodded in thanks before walking to the tree. Regardless of the cold snow, he sat down and leaned back against the hard trunk. The tree was crooked and allowed for him to almost lie back as though reclining in a chair. Icy flakes fell against his skin, but he'd always found solace in the cold numbness.

The air was scented faintly, something sweet that he couldn't identify. Eyelids drooping as though he weren't already asleep in the real world, he glimpsed Shiva's back as she stood guard over him. His eyelids drooped low and he last glanced at Shiva as she stood away in guard of his rest. Falling into a deeply unconscious state for the first time, his body could finally being resting.

What felt like mere seconds later the wind suddenly picked up with a harsh bite. Shiva's voice called him back, urging him to hurry.

"Wake!" she cried. "Now my lion, open your eyes!"

--

Grey-blue eyes shot open, pupils expanding rapidly in an attempt to adjust to the darkness of the bedroom. Dagger in hand, Squall scanned the area for whatever disturbance Shiva had detected. The room was still. There was no unwelcome movement around him, but he suddenly heard Gabriel hissing. Following a stifled grunt, something crashed and violet meowing cut confirmed that something was terrible wrong.

At the sound of the apartment door opening, Squall started. Shaking off remnants of sleep, he jumped out of bed and ran into the living room. Sprinting across the large room, he hit the side panel and quickly ran out into the hallway with his dagger in hand. Swiveling from one line of sight to the next, he found the corridor completely empty. There was little point in giving chase when he had not idea which direction the person had gone.

Running a weary hand over his face, Squall gave a heavy sigh. He didn't need this sort of crap.

Walking back inside his apartment like dormitory room, he flipped the lights on and surveyed the premise for damage. Though he hadn't actually seen anyone, not even an escaping shadow, he was positive someone had been there. It would seem five consecutive hours of sleep was too good to be true.

"Gabriel," Squall called, wondering if the cat had been hurt.

From around the kitchen's open doorway a sleek black cat stepped out. Guarded yellow eyes looked up at him, recognizing his voice.

There was an opening along a wall that separated the kitchen from the open living room. Three stools were lined up at the opening, making use of counter space like some small eating area. Tapping this counter, Squall ordered, "Up."

With a graceful leap, the cat was before him at a better level for inspection. For an animal that Rinoa had found on the streets of Timber one day, Gabriel was surprisingly tame when Squall dealt with him. Yellow eyes merely watched as he took each paw in his hands and inspected it.

There was blood on the claws of the cat's right paw. With a faint grin, Squall scratched behind Gabriel's ear. "Good boy," he said softly, earning a content purr.

Stepping back from the small alcove and walking around to enter the kitchen, the commander searched for any evidence of the intruder. He had heard something fall to the floor, something inanimate.

There was a slim cartridge that had slid nearly under the fridge. Squall's brows furrowed as he tried to think of what it was. Inside, he found a small CD. It was tiny, too small for any device he could think it belonged to. Computers didn't use anything this small. Then again, he was not the residing expert on technology. He'd need to have Selphie examine it.

Closing the case with a click, he grasped the square bit of plastic and went back to his bedroom, where he set it on the counter. Gabriel followed at his heals, even as he shed his clothes and move into the bathroom.

Showered and dressed ten minutes later, he pocketed the disk case. Once he had Lionheart secured to his hip, he left his bedroom. The black cat had meowed in what he could only take as protest as he put his boots on. Ignoring the creature, he didn't need a pet cat to harp at him in disapproval, that job was reserved for Quistis.

Biting his lip, he cringed in realization. Quistis was going to have an apoplectic episode. He was resigned to informing the head instructor of the incident as soon as possible, since the determined woman would eventually find out and rain hell fire if it was later rather than sooner.

Sometimes Quistis' attempts to be the source of his reliance were too much. Ever since Sis had left him, he had learned to rely on no one except himself. No amount of nagging or years of friendship would change that part of his character.

TBC… please review…


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Morning Migraines

In his office only a quarter hour after the untimely break in, Squall paced back and forth. He was debating his next move. Should he wake Quistis up at three in the morning or should he wait until the workday?

Eventually he settled for waiting. There was no need to matters worse by making it seem as though he was too upset over the incident to wait a few hours.

Squall felt impassive toward the whole affair, which compelled him to examine the situation more closely. Someone had snuck into his room, bypassing his security alarm and escaping nearly undetected. Had Gabriel not been there, Shiva would have woken him up and he'd have been none the wiser to any of it. This suggested that the intruder had extensive stealth training. Then again, his fatigued condition may have dulled his senses and kept him sleeping too deeply for his own good.

Unable to draw any sound conclusions, he set the matter aside. Remaining in his office, he began the next day's round of paperwork. He loathed being a desk jockey. His mind became so numb after a short period of time, lines and words blurring together as though he had the attention span of a five year old. He was a fighter, which meant being in the battlefield, not some cushy chair with stacks of papers threatening to bury him alive. By the end of the day, clocking a couple hours in the training center was a saving grace even if it meant losing sleep.

As morning light cast a glow through partially opened blinds behind his chair, Squall rubbed his tired eyes. He couldn't differentiate one report from the next, and knew he was in poor condition to be working. It was going to be a particularly grueling day.

The sun finally made its way above the mountainous horizon. Horizontal shadows were cast across his desk and scattered paperwork. The morning was suddenly bright. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his hand. Turning in his chair, he faced the window and let the sun his body. He shivered with exhaustion, certain that if he rest his eyes for a moment, he'd be sleeping soundly well into the afternoon. Unable to help it, Squall's eyes drooped shut slowly. Snapping back to attention abruptly, he reprimanding his momentary lapse. He had the entire day ahead of him.

Outside the office doors, where his secretary's desk was, he heard footsteps and muffled voices. Though he was unable to discern the actual words, he recognized the voices belonging to Quistis and his secretary Miss Fryer, or was it Miss Meyer? One of the double doors to his spacious office was promptly opened.

"Please, set the coffee so it's ready before he comes in for the day," Quistis said to the commander's secretary, carrying a stack of briefing folders over to Squall's desk. Her footsteps slowed as she viewed the unorganized arrangement of papers and folders littering the desk. The open laptop near the far corner was cause for concern. It wasn't like Squall to leave everything out in such disarray. The night guard would have contacted her if the commander hadn't turned in for the night, so she simply assumed Squall had left at such an ungodly hour that tidying up the desk hadn't been a priority.

Chair turning, Squall faced the head instructor with an unreadable mask in place. The face he hid was contorted in a grimace. He knew a rather long and perhaps even hysterical lecture was about to be given.

Stopping in her tracks, Quistis stared at her stubborn friend. Dark circles under steely blue eyes told her exactly what the brunet had been up to all night. There was a press conference that day and it would be impossible to hide those bags. The commander's naturally pale complexion was almost ghostly and high cheekbones were more prominent after months of steady weight loss. Concern filled her. As a friend, she worried about Squall's health. Worry gave way to anger as she realized the commander had spent another night in the office. Slamming the stack of folders she carried down onto the desktop, she cried, "Dammit, Squall! What are you trying to accomplish here?"

Never flinching, Squall reached inside his coat and retrieved the small disk he had found on the floor of his kitchen. Tossing it onto his desk, he offered no explanation.

Quistis adjusted her glasses in frustration. "What is this?" she asked, still keeping in mind that she was going to tell the commander off for another sleepless night.

Not meeting the blonde's eyes, Squall stared at the slim black case. "I don't know," he muttered.

"It looks like a CD," Quistis observed, biting the bait out of curiosity.

"But, for what?" Squall prompted, more than willing to occupy her mind with questions than divulge the entire truth.

"I bet Selphie would know. Where'd you get it?" the instructor asked, pulling a chair close and sitting down. Concern flashing, she leaned forward. The commander seemed to be hesitating in giving an answer, which was never a good sign.

"My rooms," he informed reluctantly. Usually blunt with his words, his reluctance kept him from blurting out the whole truth.

"Squall," Quistis warned, crystal blue eyes sharp and aware. She would not accept anything but the full truth. Tucking a stray strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, she stared at her fare friend and waited impatiently.

"It was left behind, dropped in the kitchen," Squall finally offered, wishing he knew how to satisfy the perceptive woman without revealing everything. He knew he had failed when the head instructor crossed her legs, a mannerism he recognized from her interrogations.

"Left behind by whom exactly?" Quistis inquired, tone of voice implying that she was quite willing to sit there all day.

Sighing in defeat, unwilling to put up a fight when he hardly had any left in him, Squall replied, "I didn't see them. I was woken up. I heard a disturbance outside my bedroom. Gabriel was upset. When I looked around I found this." Now he winced.

"What!" Quistis cried, shooting out of the seat. Walking swiftly to the door she closed it softly, before striding back and leaning over the desk and hissing, "Someone was in your room?" Her voice was tremulous with the implication that a very close call had been made.

"Quistis, calm down. It's not a big deal," Squall assured.

Eyes widening, Quistis remarked, "Not a big deal? Are you crazy? This makes it final. I knew I had to convince you somehow, but this settles it." She reached for the commander's phone. Picking up the receiver she dialed an extension. After a pause she spoke into one end, "Hey Selph, sorry to wake you. Can you come to the Squall's office right away?" She paused again. "Yeah, right now… okay, thanks." Hanging up the phone she took to pacing.

Squall watched with his brows furrowed in confusion. "What exactly is settled?" he finally asked.

With a wave of her hand to show it was nothing too special, Quistis said, "I called someone in to watch over you."

It took Squall a moment to absorb what he had just heard. Coughing as though he'd taken a sip of water and swallowed wrong in his surprise, he managed to blurt out, "You what?" His tone conveyed his disapproval.

Quistis stopped pacing for a moment. "Look, this stalker is obviously a threat. With the condition you're in, you need protection. I've called someone in to act as your bodyguard," she explained firmly, not willing to be swayed in the least.

There was little Squall could do but glare harshly. Mixed emotions battled back and forth within him, none of which he expressed outwardly. He was livid, completely blown away that his head instructor would go behind his back to hire a bodyguard. Further more, he was insulted that Quistis thought he needed protection. He might have been a bit tired, but he could certainly handle himself in a fight. "This is hardly a stalker," he bit out tersely, lips pressed tightly together to keep from saying what was really on his mind. "I can handle him on my own," he stated flatly, his voice wavering with slight anger at the end.

"No, you can't," Quistis refuted, placing her hands akimbo. "You don't eat or sleep. That alone puts you in a weakened state. I don't care if you can kill this person head on in battle. This is an entirely different situation. Even if you refuse sleep, you're body with eventually exhaust itself." Her voice level rose as she continued to rant. "Tell me Squall, how are you going to defend yourself when you've collapsed? You have to sleep, everyone does. You can't possibly be on guard every hour of the day." She took a couple steps closer. "So what then? Tell me Squall, 'cause I'd really like to know!"

Brows furrowed, Squall fought the urge to roll his eyes at her hysterics. "Quistis," he started in a soothing manner, "calm down. There are more important matters to be concerned with." When he saw the blonde's mouth open in shock, he drew back into his seat with the knowledge that he'd said exactly the wrong thing.

Body stiffening, Quistis said in a near shout, "More important?" Her eyes glistened behind her wire-rimmed glasses. "Whether or not your own safety qualifies as important in that stubborn and damned selfless head of yours may not be an issue for you, but it sure as hell is for me and just about every other person who has you to thank for the lives we lead today. Do you know how much we care about you? Do you know how hard we've tried to become closer, even though you push us away? One of these days I'm going to knock down that icy wall you've built up, and dammit if you aren't going to be alive for it!" Whirling around, she placed her back to him while she composed herself.

Squall was left in shock as he watched the blonde's hands rise to her face, obviously wiping away tears. He hadn't meant to upset her so much. He hated it when any of his friends were upset with him. Not sure what else to say, he apologized, "I'm sorry."

Scoffing, the Quistis returned, "No you're not."

Rolling his eyes, Squall admitted, "Okay, so I'm not. But, I still didn't intend to make you so upset."

Knocking sounded from outside the door. Quistis looked at pretty boy commander, still quite fetching despite such sleep deprived features. She knew Squall was her boss and that there were boundaries to her authority, but sometimes she was pushed over the edge. She had overstepped her authority by hiring a bodyguard, but she had known Squall wouldn't have ever agreed. She knew she was doing the right thing, and wouldn't back down.

"Enter," Squall called out as the knocking persisted. He was somewhat relieved that his argument with the head instructor was over, or at least paused until they were alone again. His relief was short lived as Selphie bound into the room. For a person having just woken up the flippy haired pilot was far too cheerful.

"Good morning!" Selphie Tilmitt greeted happily, bouncing toward the commander's desk. "What's the emergency?" she asked, her excitement seeming to suggest an emergency was something to be happy over rather than concerned about.

Quistis waited until the cheery pilot stood beside her before turning and taking a seat. Intent on explaining the situation in detail before requesting analysis of the CD the commander had found, she was cut off before she could even begin.

"Oh, pictures!" Selphie exclaimed, grabbing the small disk atop the commander's paper strewn desk. "Can I see them?"

Bowed lips pressing together tightly, grey-blue eyes narrowed while sharing a look with the head instructor. Squall saw that Quistis was quite shocked. He was filled with trepidation, suddenly aware that the incident could become far worse than it already was.

The copper haired brunette looked from one surprised face to the other. "Was it something I said?" Selphie finally asked, unsure why her companions had both gone rather pale.

"Pictures?" Quistis intoned with distress, a hand rubbing her temple as she tried to think.

"Yeah," Selphie replied, tone still quite happy. Shoulders sagging, she became uncertain if her excitement was inappropriate.

"You know what that is?" Squall questioned sternly, his tone sharp and on edge.

Thin brows furrowed as Selphie looked at Squall. Her unease grew as she questioned the tone of his voice. Surely the commander wasn't upset with her. "Yes," she answered quietly. "It's a memory disk for a digital camera." Holding the case up close she turned it around while examining it. "A nice camera too. I'd say something along the lines of a Prama model. It's what the professionals use. Prama makes all sorts of cameras. They make storage cards too, but their cards are standard for a lot of cameras."

The uncertainty seemed to be shared as the three friends shifted uncomfortably. Selphie had no clue what was going on, whereas Squall and Quistis were working on the extent of possible damage.

"Sir," came the secretary's clear voice across the intercom.

Squall jumped at the chance to occupy himself with something other than some stalker and picture. He immediately reached out and pressed the small gray button on the phone. "Yes?" he replied.

"There is a disturbance at the main gate. Someone's broken through and is heading toward the main lift now, sir," the older woman's voice spoke with a note of fear.

"And what of security?" Squall asked. Hoping there was minimal damage, he was less concerned with who had broken in.

"No one is critically injured, at least not at the main entrance. Sir, they're on the elevator now." Her voice was worried.

Regretting that his secretary was not trained in combat, Squall sighed at the frightened tone to the woman's voice. "It's fine, just let them in and don't worry," he said, assuring her unasked question of whether she should try and stop the intruder.

"Squall," Quistis said in a chastising manner. "You don't even know who it is."

"What does it matter?" Squall questioned nonchalantly, managing to imply that he was too strong to worry without sounding arrogant.

As the three companions listened in silence they heard the faint ding of the elevator. Squall remained impassive in his chair, hardly willing to give any more time for redundant disturbances such as this, while Quistis and Selphie straightened in anticipation.

Evenly paced footsteps sounded outside the door. As Quistis noted how long the stride was, her eyes widened in realization. It was too late to warn Squall.

The office doors were thrown open.

The air seemed to leave the room as Quistis tried to catch her breath. This was not good. Tension filled the room, a long silence following.

TBC… please review…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Surprise Visitor

Seifer Almasy stood imposingly on the threshold of the commander's office. The ex-sorceress knight was far from welcome in a place like Garden, but many pasts were overlooked upon enrolling in the training school for mercenaries. Golden blond hair was combed back in a well-mannered style, a few cleanly cut strands falling over his forehead. Jade-green eyes shown brightly as he stood in the early morning light. His tanned features were testimony to what he might have been up to for the past six months. A cocky smirk graced his face as he surveyed the office.

The silence was broken by a dull slap as Quistis' hand hit her forehead. Her obvious displeasure seemed to break the dam and open the floodgates for time to begin flowing again.

Bounding from her seat, Selphie jumped at Seifer. Apparently she held no grudges for old acquaintances.

More than surprised by the small girl dangling from around his neck, Seifer raised a hand and awkwardly pat her back. " Tilmitt, what gives?" he asked.

"Welcome back!" Selphie cried happily, releasing him from her tight hold and dropping back to her feet. Abruptly, she punched the ex-knight's arm, doing more harm to her fist than the rock solid muscle she hit. Ignoring the small pain, she shook her hand out. Apparently aware of her folly, the blond smirked knowingly at her. Huffing, she exclaimed, "It's about time you came back!"

Quirking a brow, Seifer gave her a questioning look. Since when did the messenger girl like him so much? He certainly couldn't blame her good tastes. "Sure," he replied, not knowing what else to say. When his gaze fell to Instructor Trepe he had to suppress his laughter. He had always enjoyed pissing the bossy woman off, though not nearly as much as ruffling Leonhart's feathers. Judging from the frown and serious look on the commander's face, he had succeeded in angering two for the price of one.

Seifer's small joy was short lived as he continued to study his former rival's effeminate face. Frowning, he was not at all pleased with what he saw. The pictures and news broadcasts had revealed nothing of the extent of Leonhart's condition. He should have known that what he had seen wasn't enough to warrant the concern that Trepe held. The smaller man before him looked about ready to collapse. Dark circles were prominent beneath steely blue eyes and thickly fringed eyelids were tinged a sleep starved pink color. From his distance across the room he could tell the already slender man had lost weight. Still, those bright eyes were vibrant and full of life. It was that stubborn spirit in his rival that kept the commander standing.

Taken completely by surprise, there was little Squall could do except stand up swiftly. His hasty movement was a mistake, giving him a head rush so sever that he had to fight from swaying as his vision darkened. His instinct was to draw Lionheart and rush the blond knight, while another part of him was undeniably curious as to why Seifer was there in the first place. Brows drawing together, he tried to get a handle on the situation.

Composing herself once again and suppressing her annoyance at the arrogant man's actions, Quistis greeted, "Thank you for coming so quickly."

Grinning broadly, Seifer strode past Tilmitt and made his way across the room. Black coat swaying in tandem with the stride of his long legs, he was soon standing across from Leonhart. His green eyes bore intently into the younger man's behind the desk. Not breaking eyes contact, he round the desk, catching the flickering emotion that grey-blue eyes showed very briefly. The emotion he had caught was no figment of his imagination, but steely irises stared at him with such impassive disinterest that he was shocked at how guarded the commander had become.

Still not looking away, Seifer said, "Shucks Trepe, don't I get a hug like Miss Sunshine gave me? You know how much you've wanted to get your hands all over me." His grin widened, but only the commander could see. Eyes gleams with mischief, he raised a hand and paused to gauge Leonhart's reaction. The younger man's eyes didn't flinch, but that lean body seemed to stiffen slightly. Seifer reminded himself how dangerous it was to play with a lion that had sharp claws. He was acutely aware of how close the commander's hand was to Lionheart's hilt. Arrogant to a fault, he ignored his better sense and reached out to ruffle the brunet's already wayward hair. "It's been a while Leonhart," he finally greeted, removing his hand from thoroughly mussed hair.

Rich laughter filled the room as Seifer observed Leonhart's reaction. Though the commander had seemed ready to pounce moments before, the younger man now had a head of sex romped hair and the expression of a lost child. It was almost adorable how those vibrant eyes were widened in shock and grasping for answers.

"What the hell is going on here?" drawled a silky smooth voice from the open doorway.

The exposed emotion in Squall's shocked demeanor was fleeting, disappearing as soon as the cavalry arrived. Green eyes were very observant of this swift change.

Seifer's broad frame blocked the commander from view. Turning to greet the newcomers, he stepped aside. Crossing his arms imposingly, his chin rose with an air of superiority while he stared at several familiar faces.

Four new members of the welcoming brigade filed into the overcrowded office. Raijin and Fujin stood to one side with knowing expressions and eager eyes, while Irvine Kinneas and Zell Dincht made a comical pair of gaping fish.

Irvine didn't seem too pleased, but Zell's cheeks were flaming with barely contained rage. Cracking his knuckles, the platinum blond boxer started shifting from foot to foot.

Regardless of his displeasure, Irvine's body language was relaxed and laidback. He lazily tipped his hat before pushing it farther back to better observe his surroundings. Strutting closer to the commander's desk, he said, "I think someone forgot to tell me something." Amethyst eyes studied each face sharply.

"Seifer's back!" Selphie exclaimed in a world of joy all her own.

Irvine would have retorted sarcastically, but he was already sleeping on the couch for a few misplaced glances at the new female recruits. "Thanks darlin', but I was looking more for an explanation," he said evenly, successfully masking all sarcasm.

"Yes, an explanation would be rather expected, even after the fact," Squall bit out harshly, directing his comment to either Seifer or Quistis, who seemed to be the only ones with any clue.

"I'll leave this to Trepe, she always did enjoy explaining everything," Seifer commented with a clap to Leonhart's shoulder. The teasing gesture was apparently a very bad move. While the commander simply shifted a stiff shoulder to shrug his hand off and gave a death glare, Kinneas had that long rifle cocked and aimed so quickly that he barely had time to draw Hyperion and counter the pointing barrel.

Quistis watched with hidden approval, noting her former student's insanely swift reflexives and concluding that there was only one man suited for the job of Squall's bodyguard.

Realizing that his day was going to be significantly worse than he had anticipated, Squall rubbed his temples as a migraine began to throb dully. Sighing, he ignored the precarious standoff between his greatest rival and the biggest womanizer alive. It was going to be a long day regardless of Seifer's sudden return and if possible he wanted to sort it all out before noon, when he had a press conference regarding a bold political alliance with Esthar. "Quistis," he said in a commanding tone, letting everyone know he was in no mood for games. "Talk, now." The order was unquestionable and conveyed his utter lack of patience.

Taking her wire rimmed glassed off and folding them in her hands, Quistis fought to make her argument before even beginning. Standing from her seat, she stood to her full height and reminded herself that she was working with the commander's best interests in mind. As her eyes flickered to the small disk in Selphie's hand, her resolved steeled. Nodding toward the doorway, she explained, "I asked Raijin and Fujin to track Mr. Almasy down and speak with him." She kept her tone even and dispassionate, as if she were reporting to the commander, which judging by his demanding tone was exactly what she was supposed to be doing.

Forgetting that the cowboy could pull the trigger at any moment, Seifer raised his blade in the air and leaned back with a scoffing laugh. "Lighten up Trepe." He ruffled Leonhart's hair again, noting the silky feel before pushing the brunet's head forward lightly like a stronger older brother would have done as a sign of endearment. "Squally-boy is more than thrilled I'm here, aren't you?"

In a fast blur, sparks flew as two blades came crashing together.

Seifer had Hyperion raised in defense, keeping Lionheart from taking his head off his broad shoulders. His eyes flashed in joy as his heart lifted and sang a battle cry. It was this familiar clashing of blades that he used to yearn for. The malevolence and level of emotion he now saw in those grey-blue eyes was thrilling. Laughing good naturedly, he didn't seem to care at all that there was a fierce tension as Leonhart pressed the blade forward in a show of anger. Of course he appeared insane to everyone else, since the lion had snapped and the number one rule after that was to duck for cover or run to the nearest exit, whereas he was enjoying it immensely.

"Does the kitten not like to be touched?" Seifer prodded further, egging the fight on. He hissed a laugh through a smile as he felt the pressure increase dramatically. It was surprising that a man so small in comparison to himself who was obviously exhausted could still hold such strength. That was why the commander was so dangerous. The kitten had the strength of a lion.

All eyes were on the reunited rivals while the room filled with nervous anticipation. They all knew it was unwise to come between a fight with Seifer and Squall. Times may have changed, but archrivals had not. The tension between the commander and the ex-knight was palpable, almost electric. It was obvious the pair was in a world of their own.

Quistis knew that in the heat of battle, Squall often became lost. She even had suspicions that the Guardian Forces whispered in the commander's mind and called for release, but those suspicions were unfounded and unrelated to the confrontation taking place in front of her. Taking it upon herself, she dared to break the two up before one of them wound up crashing through the window and plummeting to their death.

Coughing loudly, the head instructor attempted to catch the rivals' attention, but only managed in grabbing everyone else's. Again, more obviously, she cleared her throat. This managed to capture a quick flash of bright green eyes. Thinking that perhaps shocking the commander would break the tension, she said loud enough for even the two of them to hear even in their own little world, "I want to hire Seifer as Squall's bodyguard."

The reaction wasn't immediate, but after a moment, Squall's shoulders shifted.

Only Seifer could see the expression on the younger man's face, bright eyes blinking while that analytical brain processed what had just been said. When the commander's eyes became more prominently blue, he knew their stand off was over.

Squall squinted slightly as his migraine pounded loudly, protesting his actions up until that moment. Without warning, his strength seemed to dissipate.

Although blue-grey eyes were staring levelly at his chest, Seifer didn't miss the signs in the brunet's changed demeanor. He quickly eased off the pressure behind his blade.

Gritting his teeth and blinking at the suddenly too bright room, Squall took a tremulous breath to steady himself. Carefully masking any trace of weakness, he gently lowered his weapon. Not sheathing it right away, the tip rested against the carpeted floor. Disbelief over what Quistis had said rendered him speechless. "What?" he managed at length, teeth clenching.

To the occupants of the room, save a rather perceptive blond knight, the commander appeared ready to unleash a bitter and cold fury. Appearances were quite deceiving, when in actuality Squall couldn't think straight as the throbbing in his head took a sharp turn for the worse. His frequent migraines were an issue he had already seen Dr. Kadowaki for, but there was no reprieve for him at the moment.

"Entertaining as this may be, I'm beyond famished. I don't know about anyone else, but I simply cannot discuss business on an empty stomach," Seifer said blithely, rubbing his jaw and grinning roguishly. Directing his attention to Fujin, he instructed, "Run along and get a booth for the…" He scanned the room quickly, pretending to count each person. "…eight of us."

"NEGATIVE," Fujin returned.

"Yeah, Fu and I are gonna get going, ya know. We've got classes to teach and, like, arguments to avoid," Raijin explained.

Raijin and Fujin hastily walked out the open door and toward the elevator, escaping the battlegrounds. They were both privy to why Seifer was there and didn't want to be involved in trying to force a bodyguard on the commander any more than they already had been. They were content with their jobs and knew remaining in Commander Leonhart's office would be the fastest way to unemployment.

"Hey, get back here!" Zell cried shaking a fist in their direction before slumping in defeat as the elevator doors slid closed and whisked the fleeing duo downward, away from the problem the rest of them faced. "Not fair," he grumbled.

"Go on Dincht," Seifer ordered. "You know the best place to go. Find room for six."

While Zell snapped his head up and glared at the tall blond, Selphie raised her hand and waved it around madly. "Oh, oh, I have an idea!"

"This ain't a classroom darlin'," Irvine drawled in scrutiny. Catching his tongue, he gulped and plastered a smile to his face. "Go ahead and speak your mind," he said more amicably. He was somewhat distressed that he frequently found himself curbing his tongue around his favorite ray of sunshine. His cold turkey attempts to change his womanizing ways left him not only celibate, but also extremely grouchy. He had become quite the cynic, and did his best to spare his little lady the harsh words that tried to come from his mouth.

Smiling widely, Selphie danced from foot to foot. "Let's use the conference room and order breakfast." When her suggestion was met with dumb silence, she rolled her eyes and sighed disapprovingly. "You guys! Snap out of it! Seifer shows up and all you can do is stand around gaping like mindless morons."

"Ouch, babe. That was harsh," Irvine answered, pushing his hat forward and shouldering Exeter.

With the cogs in her mind spinning fast, Quistis thought about Selphie's proposal and made a decision. "Great idea. Let's all go." The conference room was the perfect setting to hash out all the sordid details of why Seifer was there.

Regarding the head instructor uncertainly, both Zell and Irvine shifted their gaze from Squall to Quistis. Eventually Squall gave a subtle nod of ascension.

"Yay! I want waffles," Selphie said, taking Irvine's arm and dragging him towards the door.

Shoving his fists into his pockets Zell trailed after the two lovebirds, he brightened slightly at the prospect of ordering whatever he wanted for breakfast. His mouth was already watering at the thought of eating hotdogs.

Quistis started walking away, but sensed that Squall was still expecting some sort of liable excuse from her. Glancing over her shoulder, she said resolutely, "I won't apologize for this. I think everyone should know about what happened last night. I'm going to view whatever is on that disk. Whatever rank you may be, you must acknowledge this threat." Her voice was stern, something she found difficult to pull off given her audience. Not even waiting for the elevator to be called back up, she strode briskly to the emergency stairwell and out of sight.

The crowd had left almost as quickly as it had entered. Seifer and Squall were the only ones left in the office.

"You can let go of me now," Squall bit out vehemently, pulling his arm away from Seifer's grasp. His vision was blurred by his long bangs as the touch friendly blond messed his hair up again. It occurred to him that Seifer was touching his head repeatedly because the man truly desired to be killed, but then the arrogant knight would have let him follow through with his attack earlier.

To Squall's annoyance and concealed embarrassment, after his short power struggle with his rival, his body had started to give out on him. He had managed to hide it briefly, but wouldn't have succeeded in standing upright if his rival hadn't subtly supported him. He wasn't sure what was a worse scenario, nearly collapsing and being helped by Seifer or falling over and having everyone witness it.

Ducking away from the hand that lingered on his head, Squall moved around to the other side of his desk, not caring that he was giving the blond an upper hand in his own territory. "Why now?" he growled, replacing Lionheart in its holster.

"If not now, then when?" Seifer replied in a mocking and carefree tone.

"Don't play with me," the brunet ground out, leaning forward and gripping the richly colored wooden desktop.

"Trepe went to great lengths to find me and ask me back-" Seifer began to explain to the sickly looking man, but was cut off by the loud thumping of the other's gloved fist hitting the desk without care of the scattered papers beneath. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, searching for the right words. It was difficult to answer the question when he wasn't entirely certain himself. He decided to try a different approach. "Would you take me back?" he asked sincerely.

Stunned by the question, Squall raised his face, craning his neck upward from his hunched position. His face showed every emotion that crossed his mind, from confusion to surprise. "Take you back?" he finally questioned. He didn't like it, so many questions, but no answers.

"Yeah, like Raijin and Fujin. Or would you have me executed?" Seifer made sure to keep his tone in check, knowing that if he was anything but serious, Leonhart would become pissed and expend even more energy trying to get rid of him.

Scoffing, the commander quickly schooled his expression. He remained in his slightly weaker position, lacking the energy to argue while standing straight. Upon realizing how pathetic he must seem, he busied himself with the organizing of the papers before him. His only comment was, "It was an unjust war. Mind games took away many a person's free will. I'm no executioner."

"I had my own will, don't you doubt that for a second!" Seifer hissed, insulted that his oldest rival would think so little of him. "I was a knight by choice." He watched for any reaction. When he received none, he became more agitated. He was angered that the brunet had that icy wall erected when he fancied himself an exception to the younger man's guarded attempts at keeping people out. "Would you not condemn me to death? Testify in court? I'm sure there are a few nations that would love to see me hang." This elicited the reaction he wanted.

Squall eyes sharpened dangerously, staring with cool warning in jade green ones. "Don't insult me!" Squall spat, enraged and insulted by the blond's implications. "If I condemn a man to death, then I'd sure as hell be the last thing he saw as I killed him myself! Don't take me for a coward!" He didn't care if his secretary, who he suspected was still outside the open office doors, overheard.

Smiling in a sudden change of demeanor, Seifer pulled the headmaster's cushy chair up and sat down heavily with a content sigh. His actions were out of place in the tense atmosphere. "This is why I came back," he stated, now having a solid answer for the first time. It had taken a little demonstration to jog his memory. Seeing Leonhart's uncomprehending gaze, he elaborated, "I miss pissing you off. There isn't anybody out there worth my attention. Every damn city is the same. This world is full of weaklings. I took Trepe's offer, knowing how much it'd tick you off." He ended his explanation by raising his feet and resting his boots atop the glossy desktop that the brunet had just cleared of papers.

Brows furrowed, Squall found himself unsure of what Seifer meant. There was one thing he did know, which was that he wasn't about to let such an arrogant asshole come in to his office and pretend to have some sway over his emotions. In a show of his defiance, he mustered strength from his final reserves and swiftly lifted the heavy boots off the desk, shoving them upward.

Caught by surprise, it was all Seifer could do not to topple over in the swiveling chair. Luckily he still held Hyperion and was able to use it for support.

Squall straightened, turning and walking towards the door while he mumbled a stream of angry curses beneath his breath.

Seifer caught a bit of what the brunet said.

"Don't need a damn babysitter… cocky bastard…"

With a grin, Seifer watched the younger man storm out of the office, seeing for the first time in a long time the famous ass that earned the commander a fan club.

In the elevator, Squall leaned back against the cool metal wall and closed his eyes. His body shuddered. He was beyond exhausted. Even the lights of the elevator were too bright, making him want to shy away. He was going to struggle every second of that day's press conference when those cameras flashed.

It took the commander a moment to register that the doors hadn't closed yet. Cracking a lid, the tall blond's form came into view, taking up the entire entrance.

Minutes seemed to pass while the pair simply stared at each other.

Loser of the stand off, Seifer took his place beside the brunet and folded his arms. "So, where's the conference room?" he asked once the doors had closed and they were left alone in the restricted space.

"…" Squall didn't answer.

"I suppose it's the same one as always." Smiling green eyes looked down on the mop of mussed hair, which he noticed the commander hadn't even bothered trying to straighten.

A sudden thought occurred to Seifer as he watched the tired commander rest grey-blue eyes, seeming to sleep while standing. The way the brunet looked truly did make it appear like the man had been thoroughly handled in the bedroom. He found his curious green eyes taking in the sights that he hadn't been presented for six months. He wondered if Leonhart had always looked so strangely androgynous or if it were a new development. How could a guy have lips that were almost red when the rest of the man's skin was so pale? How could those lashes be so long and dark?

Seifer found his eyes transfixed and his senses straining in concentration. A sigh escaped those pout lips and the commander's breathing slowed somewhat. He wondered if perhaps Leonhart had really gone to sleep.

The elevator dinged and Squall snapped to attention, abruptly squinting when his eyes were flooded with too much light. Managing to move one foot in front of the other, his mind returned to the various problems he'd been thinking of on the way down.

Where the hell was Rinoa? Was announcing an alliance with Esthar the right thing to do when Laguna had refused to keep their newly discovered relation a secret? What day was he scheduled to have a meeting with the other Garden commanders on a change in training regimen? Would Quistis seriously push him to accepting Seifer as a bodyguard?

Squall was almost willing to just accept Quistis' ludicrous proposal simply to eliminate the matter from his list of unresolved problems. With or without his approval, his rival seemed to be taking liberties extended only to knights and protectors.

The walk to the conference room wasn't a long one, but for Squall it began to feel strenuous. It didn't help that he had little to look forward to upon arriving. As he listened to the blond's closely following steps, his annoyance grew. He wanted to turn around and tell the older boy to leave and never return, but he didn't harbor any true hate for the former knight. Deciding to get some answers while he had the chance, he asked, "What did Quistis ask of you?" There was no response for a moment, but then he heard the blond's deep voice speak from a distance significantly closer than he was comfortable with.

"Trepe hasn't actually asked anything of me. I'm here, to hear her proposal," Seifer answered.

Remaining silent, Squall decided it was best to just leave it.

TBC… please review…


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Intimate Pictures

Inside the large and lavish conference room, each comrade was settled and waiting for the last two members to arrive. No one knew how much time they were going to have before Squall and Seifer showed up, though it seemed a general assumption that they would come in together.

Quistis had asked Selphie to set up whatever was needed to view the contents of the evidential CD. The jumper-wearing pilot had skipped off to retrieve what was needed, returning in record time with unparalleled excitement at seeing the pictures.

The copper haired woman was bent over the long rectangular conference table, crisscrossing wires while hooking her own personal camera up to a larger screen at the head of the table. She worked on the final set up with her tongue stuck out in concentration, trying to remember which port was outgoing and which was incoming. Seemingly occupied, it wasn't such a complicated process that she couldn't keep some of her focus on the conversation going on around her. The heavy and angry mood was oppressing to her naturally cheerful personality. Hearing redundant arguments flung back and forth as her friends bickered, she finally straightened up and questioned, "What's the big deal?"

"In case you hadn't noticed Selph, Seifer's back!" Zell shouted, his fists slamming onto the black tabletop.

"Isn't it great? We're all back together again. Everyone from the orphanage!" Selphie exclaimed. Aware of the baleful feelings radiating through the room, she did her best to smile brightly regardless. Flopping down into on of twelve plush leather chairs, she wallowed in her excitement.

Seated beside the energetic pilot, Irvine glanced indiscreetly into the small woman's lap. Selphie's short yellow jumper was riding tantalizingly high, and he was determined to sneak a peek.

Quistis sat solemnly across from the younger three, her arms crossed in refusal to argue further. After a tense moment when it became apparent her companions were expecting her to explain what was going on, she said while staring stubbornly at the center of the table, "You guys should know that the incidents haven't stopped. It's gotten more serious."

Irvine's attention was effectively pulled away from his little lady's smooth thighs. "You mean the commander's stalker?" It was baffling how anyone could possibly evade their detection. It was rather insulting actually. Squall's lack of concern on the matter had resulted in a less than suitable manhunt.

"Yes," Quistis replied with a nod.

"Was it more mail?" Zell asked with concern, fists unclenching as he set his anger aside.

"No," Quistis assured. "Though, I think I should mention the details about the last little present left behind." She bit her lip and gave a pleading look of apology to the small group. "I know you all should have been told, but Squall asked that I not make a big deal of it."

Amethyst eyes pinned the head instruct in place. "What exactly don't we know yet?" Irvine drawled.

Adjusting her glasses, Quistis admitted, "The package was a box rigged to explode an inhalant." The only outsiders privy to such information were the SeeDs she had commissioned to analyze the toxin, and since they were loyal Trepies, there was little danger in rumors spreading. "It was a paralyzing toxin, something called Pillar's Web."

Irvine's eyes widened. He was familiar with a wide range of poisons and toxins, since many of them could be utilized as bullets. He knew the head instructor wasn't being completely honest with the group. Pillar's Web was a dangerous substance, lethal if taken in excess or straight from a Caterchipillar. He was unsettled to recall that there were aphrodisiac side effects.

Quistis was almost certain the sharp shooting cowboy knew exactly how the toxin worked. If the perpetrator had intended to use the toxin for more than paralysis purposes, then they were dealing with a stalker who was pursuing the commander for some sexually perverse purpose. Sharing a long look with the gunman, she tacitly requested that the other two not be worried unnecessarily. Continuing, she informed them of the most recent incident, "Last night someone broke into Squall's quarters." Pointing to the disk in front of Selphie, she added, "That disk was left behind."

"What!" Selphie cried in shock. "Someone took pictures of him?"

"We don't know that yet," Quistis said firmly.

"Oh my," Selphie murmured. Her first reaction to what the regal blonde had said was to see for herself what was on the disk. All the color suddenly drained from her face.

Quistis watched with trepidation as the usually chipper pilot stared aghast at the small screen on the digital camera. She became terribly curious and alarmed when Selphie kept clicking a small button and began to blush.

After several moments, Selphie tore her green eyes from the small screen. Her cheeks were scarlet. "I don't think Squall will want to see this," she said.

"Let me see!" Zell cried, jumping from his seat and moving to stand behind the flippy haired girl.

"Just put it up on the screen, so we can all see," Irvine directed, grabbing the back of Zell's shirt before the boxer could move around the back of his chair.

"Yes," came the ex-knight's baritone voice. "So we can all see." Seifer stood in the doorway at the far end of the room. He towered behind the commander, who was stubbornly glaring at the floor and refusing to move. Gripping the brunet's shoulder firmly, he shoved the smaller man forward a step. "Come now, don't be so shy. You'll never make any friends that way," he jibed quietly, only loud enough for Leonhart to hear.

Squall grudgingly walked forward, ignoring the fact that he ought to swing his gunblade at the blond's head instead of complying with the man's direction. His brows furrowed as he noticed how odd Selphie seemed to be sitting. Stiff and tense, he couldn't imagine why the pilot seemed so flushed with fever. There was something wrong. Everyone appeared as though they'd been caught red handed.

Wary and curious at the same time, Squall strode towards the far end of the table and took his place beside the head instructor. He almost asked what was wrong when the copper haired woman flinched at his proximity. Studying the group keenly, he didn't venture to voice his concern.

With a great deal less grace and reserve than the commander, Seifer plopped down into a one of many ritzy chairs. Inching his chair unnecessarily closer to the sulking brunet, he was amused to find himself the target of the man's malevolent glare. He was surprised at how unconcerned everyone else seemed with his presence there. Fujin and Raijin had been quite right. He had envisioned Leonhart setting an entire brigade on him the second he stepped onto Garden's soil.

Though Seifer was certain he was far from welcome, the reactions he'd received were almost disappointing. He was still unsure whether he intended to take Trepe's proposal seriously or not. Life would no doubt be quite interesting if he remained near Leonhart.

"Let's see what all the fuss is about," Seifer said, leaving his thoughtful reverie for another time.

Jerking her head to face the ex-knight, Selphie stared wide-eyed. Uneasily, she debated what to do. The images were terribly suggestive. "Okay," she finally mumbled, gazing apologetically at the commander.

Grey-blue eyes narrowed in suspicious apprehension. Squall was about to protest, realizing that the cause for the girl's odd behavior was on account of the content on the disk. It was too late though. The large panel screen lit up and the image came into focus. It took a moment for Squall to register what he was seeing. Frowning, he was confused by what was a picture of himself sleeping. He didn't understand Selphie's reluctance. There was nothing to be so uptight about.

Excluding an unimpressed commander, every set of eyes was glued to the head of the table where the screen was mounted. No one spoke, just gaped. It was the ice prince, the man who never let his guard down, looking utterly defenseless and unguarded. Apparently too tired to have turned the bedding down, the commander was curled up closer to the foot of the bed while sleeping. Stripped of his bomber jacket and many belts, his thin white shirt rode up a pale and slim torso.

Gulping, Selphie pressed a button on her camera and replaced the picture with the next.

Frowning more deeply as his mood darkened, Squall watched in frustration. He didn't understand why everyone was looking at the pictures in such a shell-shocked manner.

The next image displayed a better view of the commander's sleeping face. Dark hair was softly draping to the side, the longish strands splayed against the blanket beneath. Pout lips were relaxed and almost smiling. Dark lashes were gently dusting pale cheeks.

Another picture showed that the sleeping man was curled around a dark cat. The cat, which the group knew to be Gabriel, Rinoa's latest companion for Angelo, was resting its head under Squall's chin. None of them had known the commander was so fond of the creature.

After a few more pictures, Squall was beginning to feel uneasy. The photos began to take on a different meaning. One photo was obviously focusing on his ass, which was when he began to feel true embarrassment. The fact that in his sleeping position his leather pants were hugging him tightly only made it worse.

Though embarrassed, Squall's real concern was how the photographer had managed to take so many pictures at such a close range without waking him up. It was a pathetic failure on his part. Obviously he had been too tired and slept too deeply. The question better asked was why Shiva hadn't noticed the unwanted presence sooner.

When a gloved hand entered the frame, everyone held their breath. The hand hovered closely over Squall's body, shifting along with each succession of shots as if caressing the commander. It began low and worked its way closer and higher. Finally, it came only centimeters from Squall's face.

There was a collective sigh of relief when the photographer's hand, which had been about to touch the commander's mouth, was encased in the mouth of an apparently less than happy cat. It would seem that Gabriel had woken up and taken revenge for either being disturbed or finding a trespasser.

"Fucking hell, that cat's more like a dog!" Seifer exclaimed victoriously, grinning smugly at the stalker's foiled attempts.

The ex-knight's abrupt outburst seemed to draw the others from their transfixed staring. The slide show had felt like some heated and forbidden home video. There was a similar flushed tone to everyone's cheeks. Seeing the commander in such a manner had been unsettling in many ways. The strange attractiveness that could easily qualify as sex appeal was not something the group of friends often thought about when facing the commander, since it would be inappropriate. Zell and Irvine were particularly unsettled, since they were not immune to the allure presented in the pictures.

The group was mainly upset with how seriously dangerous the previous night had been for their beloved commander. This was no ordinary stalker and it was obvious the creep had very perverted intentions. Considering what Squall was to them, they had a general feeling of protectiveness and possession over their leader. Seeing some stranger attempting to be so insidiously intimate was enraging.

With no more pictures to view, the companions were left to discuss what they had just witnessed. There was awkward silence as they uncomfortably shifted in their seats, inappropriate images of their commander dancing through their heads.

Embarrassed that he'd fallen prey to some fan girl, Squall cleared his throat and looked over at Quistis, almost shyly. He was about to say something, when a knock disturbed the quiet absence of words between the six of them.

The doorknob was turning open when Quistis hissed harshly, "Selphie!"

"Wha-" the green-eyed girl started, but caught on quickly. She hastily pulled the power cords from her camera. Just as a serving girl wheeled a large cart of assorted foods into the room, the screen went blank.

With a meek bow, the young attendant left the cart and said quietly, "Please call down to the kitchens if there is anything more you require."

The small disturbance seemed to be a jolting trigger that brought everyone to their senses.

Zell was tired of the odd air that had settled between them so early in the day. Usually he wouldn't be getting up for another half hour, at which time he would have gone to the kitchens where Balamb Garden's lovely head chef, Greta, would fix him hotdogs for breakfast. Stomach growling, he promptly stood to serve himself some food.

Aside from table manners, Zell was fairly considerate when it came to food. After retrieving his own plate, he wheeled the cart closer and served everyone else. Having ordered without either Squall or Seifer present, water and toast had been the only secure choice to make. Zell was willing to share his hotdogs, but doubted the commander would accept any of their food. The blond boxer figured the ex-knight could starve, which would suit him just fine. "Dig in," he said before sitting back in his own seat and starting on a hotdog.

Buttering an English muffin, Quistis spoke with forced collectiveness, "This person managed to get that close and you say you never saw a thing?"

Scowling, Squall didn't reply right away. He knew what his folly had been and didn't need salt rubbed in his wounds. He couldn't explain that he had been too tired to keep his wits about him, since that was obviously the response the head instructor was looking for. It was a trap to get him to admit he needed protection. He was too disturbed and as his throbbing headache took a turn for the worse, he was not game for debating his former instructor.

Knowing his response was expected, Squall stalled while reaching for a bottle of water in the center of the table. Twisting the cap off with more concentration than necessary, he took a small sip, wetting his throat and lips. Throwing his sensitive pride aside, he finally admitted to his weakness, "I suspect that I was too out of it to have heard anything." Though the intruder had definitely been trained, it did not excuse his blunder.

Quistis raised a hand to her chin as if in thought. "So, not only is this person dangerous on their own, but you are in a rather vulnerable state to begin with," she reasoned soundly.

"I'm not in any danger," Squall shot back. He wasn't alarmed at what had happened, just embarrassed that his solitary moment of weakness was being flaunted in his face. Shiva _had_ woken him up, and he had little doubt that his Guardian Force would not be so delayed ever again.

"Squall," the head instructor began incredulously, "someone broke into your apartment and took pictures of you while you were asleep. He passed your security and managed to escape. At what point does this guy become dangerous? How about when he has a knife to your throat or manages to use Pillar's Web on you?"

Sullenly, Squall regarded his friends. "I understand the repercussions this could have if photos such as these ever made it to the press, but that is the extent of what any of you should be concerned with. My safety is not your problem," his words were mainly directed to the head instructor.

"Are you serious?" Quistis responded.

Zell, Irvine, and Selphie were partly engrossed in eating breakfast, but were still intently listening to Squall and Quistis argue. Seifer took it upon himself to set a plate of toast before the commander, similarly interested in listening to the debate unfold

Quistis pressed, "What happens with the media has no relevance right now. This is about your safety. Did you not see those pictures? This guy was practically all over you and you were so tired that you might as well have been in a coma. If Rinoa's cat hadn't done something, you'd have slept through the whole ordeal."

Rolling his eyes at the melodrama, Squall corrected, "I would have woken up before any real threat arose." He was less confident than he let on, but was willing to bet that Shiva wouldn't let it happen again.

"You can't expect some pet to act as your protector," Quistis shot back, keeping her tone conversational. She was trying to run the commander into a corner. Her specialty happened to be interrogations.

Clenching his teeth, Squall prayed for patience. "Gabriel is not my protector." He wondered if Quistis would back off if he admitted to having a rather unconventional bond with his Guardian Force. "I have more caution than you give me credit for."

"Oh?" the blonde intoned dubiously. "And what's that? You have the kitten for a guard dog, what more credit should I be giving?"

There was a quite mumbling of agreement from the spectators on the other side.

Glaring at his three friends, effectively silencing them, Squall sighed. A shiver wracked his sleep-deprived body. Sinking back into the comfortable padding of the chair, he shook his head slightly. The lights seemed to grow brighter, but that was just his migraine flaring. Deftly reaching into his jacket pocket, he procured a small white bottle. Pressing a palm to the cap, he twisted the top off and tapped out a couple of dark green oval shaped pills. Tossing the pills into his mouth he took another sip of his water and swallowed. If his actions were worrisome to his friends, he showed no sign of caring. He gave Quistis a look that said, "I'd rather be giving a public speech right now than telling you this."

Running a hand through his hair, Squall finally spoke, "It was a fluke that I didn't wake up right away. I don't know why, but I was warned a little late, and it won't happen again." He was trying to be vague and reassuring at the same time, but he knew it hadn't worked.

Crystal blue eyes leveled the commander. "It wasn't a fluke. You can't expect to be alert all the time. It's just not possible, not even for those of us who receive sleep on a regular basis." Her voice was softer, as if pleading with him to see reason.

In that moment, Squall decided he might as well come clean. The motley crew seated around him were his friends for a reason. He knew they would label him as abnormal, even they might not accept it right away. "I _am_ able to keep alert. I have Shiva. She keeps watch and wakes me up when necessary. She was just a little late last night."

There was silence. Squall usually enjoyed silence, but the atmosphere was terribly uncomfortable as he waited for someone to respond.

"What?" Quistis finally managed to ask.

"Damn," Seifer commented. "I always knew you were a cold bastard, but I didn't think the ice queen had anything to do with it." He gave a hardy chuckle before raising a hand to ruffle Leonhart's hair again.

Glaring daggers at Seifer, Squall's lips pressed firmly together in a frown. Even after the blond removed the hand, he continued to glare harshly.

Shrugging, Seifer ignored the fact that he was now ruffling his rival's hair almost habitually. "Lighten up. It's a joke, ever hear one before?" He waved a hand dismissively.

Folding his arms, Squall slouched further into the chair, wishing he could close his eyes right then and take a nap.

"Oh!" Selphie cried, waving her hand in the air again as if waiting to be called on. "I think I might know what he's talking about."

Everyone turned his or her attention from the brooding commander to the energetic young woman.

"Come on darlin', don't keep us waitin' all day here," Irvine drawled, wishing the object of his affection could show at least a modicum of decorum.

"Diablos talked to me once," Selphie said cheerfully, nodding her head in agreement with herself.

"Selphie," Zell began, "you never have him junctioned."

Copper brown hair flopped and bounced as the happy girl shook her head in an exaggerated manner. "Not true. I have fought with him a few times. And the last time I had him junctioned, he talked to me."

Everyone stared at the pilot for a moment, waiting for her to elaborate.

When it was apparent that Selphie was done telling her story, Irvine prompted, "Darlin', what did he say to you?" He spoke with a slight emphasis on each syllable.

Giggling, Selphie scratched the back of her head in a slight show of embarrassment. "He told me to shut up."

Zell was on the ground at this admission. His laughter filled the room as his fist pounded the carpeted floor.

Laughter turned into grunted choking noises as the spiky haired blond found his chest pinned to the floor by the end of a nunchaku. Everyone was reminded of why Selphie was not someone to be trifled with as she crushed her friend to the floor without so much as dropping her broad smile.

Rubbing his sternum, Zell climbed back into his chair while muttering under his breath.

Irvine decided that when it came to their favorite introverted friend, nothing was ever normal. "Well, I for one remember reading all about the development of bonds between the fighter and the guardian force." His violet eyes watched the brunet across from him. It seemed that a silent battle was going on between Squall and Seifer, and only at his words of accepting belief did the commander stir.

When the slender man turned blue-grey eyes on him, Irvine felt a heated wave wash over him. He couldn't help but remember those pictures and wonder just what the ice prince would look like so unguarded while conscious. Internally, he scoffed as he tilted his head and angled his hat lower to hide any blush that might have crept to his cheeks. The only time Squall would ever look like that and be awake for it would be….

Irvine gulped as his rather perverted mind suddenly concluded that Squall might look rather enticing writhing about in the throws of passion. Silently he wished the commander would focus those intense eyes elsewhere. He was afraid that his thoughts might somehow be read. He nearly sighed audibly when Quistis spoke again.

"I'm not sure what you mean Squall. I've read about Guardian Forces extensively and never have I come across an actual instance where the host and the guardian were capable of communicating, aside from during a summoning." Her glasses flashed in the light as she shift her body to better face Squall.

"I've had Shiva for a long time. You know how compatibility grows with time," Squall answered, having sought his own answers long before.

"Do you speak with her? Or is it something else?" the instructor asked, a note of intrigue in her voice. As the type of person who always sought knowledge, she couldn't help but find this information very interesting from a scientific viewpoint.

"Have you ever tried to speak to any of them?" Squall asked, not willing to sit there and give details about something he felt was rather private. When the blonde didn't answer him, he continued, "I won't explain it. If you're curious, find out for yourself. The point is I wasn't in danger."

The entire notion was a surprise to Quistis. Aside from processing the idea, she had to figure a way to counter the argument. The truth of the matter was that even if Squall had an entire platoon of SeeDs posted outside his door, this stalker had gotten far too close. They were no nearer to catching the culprit than when the first hints of the intruder's activities surfaced. Quistis wasn't even certain she could pin point the first incident, seeing as Squall's fan base was so large. There wasn't a day that passed without loads of mail and attempted break-ins. The difference was that no one had ever succeeded in getting very far, until now.

Before the instructor could figure an argument, a surprisingly sharp Seifer saved her the trouble. The ex-knight crossed his arms, as if in mock of the smaller brunet's body language. Then he spoke, "The point of having someone stand watch while you sleep, is that if anything should happen, they can take care of it and let you rest. Shiva can't do that. She cannot physically protect you unless she is summoned and in order to do that you have to be awake."

Selphie spoke right after Seifer, cutting off any possible protest Squall might have, "Is that how you do it? Does Shiva know what's going on all the time?" Most uncharacteristic, her tone was quite somber.

"I don't follow," Squall replied, not sure what the pilot was talking about.

"The second something happens or a problem suddenly springs up," Selphie began in better explanation, "you show up right away to deal with it. Even if it's in the middle of the night and no one has sent for you, you show up looking so tired, but already prepared to deal with it." Her green eyes searched the commander's, aghast with some horrible realization. "Those times, when you should have been resting after days of working, it was because Shiva told you?" She was almost pleading with him to deny it.

Arms still crossed, Squall shifted his hands unnoticeably, so that they were instead clutching his jacket. It was a nervous habit of his to wring his hands on anything they could grasp. Usually, he was able to have the calming feel of Lionheart's hilt. He didn't like the almost pained look in the girl's green eyes. There was only one way he could think of to sooth the way she felt. Schooling his expression, his eyes stared coldly. "The sooner I can deal with a problem, the sooner it can be resolved," he reasoned.

The flaw in everyone's argument that the commander should be resting more and taking more time off was that there was simply too much work to be done and too much chaotic aftermath from the war. As much as the group felt their leader should take it easy, they could not deny the necessity of the man's unwavering attention to every detail. More than relying on the commander, they all needed the stubborn fighter to keep pushing harder. It was horribly unfair, but Squall was the leader for a reason. Only Squall could pull it off flawlessly. The notion that being both headmaster and commander was temporary was an overused excuse used to sooth their guilty consciences, and they were slowly realizing the extent of how their expectations were harming young man.

The lack of response to Squall's easily countered standpoint was like a silent agreement among the companions of their guilt.

Seifer was in a different boat and hardly felt remorse for nearly destroying the world. Ignoring the do-gooders futile bickering, he plowed along with his own interests in mind. "With the ice prince's agreement aside, lets get down to business." Not missing a beat, he reached out and picked up a piece of toast and placed it in the slightly open mouth of the commander, who had been about to say something. "Eat up sweet cheeks, you're looking a bit scrawny," he commented while he ruffled the brunet's hair once again.

The mildly startled group had to remind themselves that Seifer's favorite pass time was annoying the commander.

Irvine suppressed a grin as he watched the surprised reaction of his sullen friend. The toast was hanging in the air with one corner held loosely between parted lips, while grey-blue eyes held the confusion of a child. "Is this a case one of us will be assigned?" the sharpshooter asked, going along with Seifer's suggestion and ignoring the wishes of the commander.

"No," Quistis answered as forerunner of the investigation. "I'm certain Squall would never allow that." Turning her gaze to the commander, she raised her eyebrows in question. A subtle nod was Squall's only confirmation as he set the toast on the plate. She could only push him so far before he'd pull rank and dismiss everything. Expending the use of the most prominent members of Balamb Garden to head an investigation that he didn't want going on in the first place would be too much.

"So what now?" Zell asked, leaning back and rubbing his belly contently.

"Now," Quistis began, "I will continue in the usual course of action. There will be a more rigorous investigation. No details given to outside sources. It'll be conducted under the radar. The last thing we need is public inquiry. Without calling in professionals, it's pretty much up to myself and a few others who I've included to resolve this."

"Who else?" Irvine asked, wondering why outsiders could help, but not them.

"There are a few rather talented members of the Trepies. I'm not proud to say I'm extorting their use, but in any case, they would jump off a cliff if I asked them to. I've recruited three of them. They are all rather talented in data analysis, so they're particularly useful. If I ask for absolute secrecy it will be given."

Light eyebrows creased over violet eyes as Irvine absorbed the head instructor's words. "You have obsessive stalkers trying to catch another obsessive stalker, all the while giving them classified details about our dear commander?" he asked in a tone that expressed his disapproval.

"Yeah Trepe, that doesn't sound like you," Seifer piped in, not actually disapproving, but wanting to goad the woman.

Straightening in her seat, Quistis defended herself, "It's not like there are many options." She frowned and glared at the sharp shooting cowboy. "Squall is too damn stubborn to let me enlist any help outside of Garden, and he won't let you guys help since he'd consider it a waste of time and disregard for your own responsibilities. I mean what do you want? He doesn't even think this is a problem." Having spoken in nearly one entire breath, she inhaled sharply.

"Hey," Seifer cut in before Trepe could continue. "Could you stop talking about the guy like he isn't here?" he requested, gesturing to the brunet beside him. The blond frowned when his eyes fell upon a still commander. Seifer reached out for a forgotten piece of toast that had a tiny bit of the corner missing and picked it up. Looking from the toast to the tightlipped and almost vacant expression on Leonhart's face, Seifer reached his other hand down beneath the table and pinched the slender man's inner thigh. This earned him an immediate reaction, as the pale man jerked away and opened a previously clamped mouth to yell at him. Seizing the opportunity, he again pressed the toast past parted lips. "Eat," he commanded.

The exchange seemed to go unnoticed by the others. Zell and Selphie had begun to discuss plans to capture the unknown person who had taken such intimate photos of their leader.

"Zell, Selphie, I was serious when I said you can't be involved," Quistis chastised.

"Like hell we aren't going to do something," said Zell.

Back and forth across the table, the four friends fought to find a suitable choice of action.

The noise was irritating to Squall's severely throbbing head. The pills had yet to kick in. He knew he was in for a rather nasty migraine and only hoped the medicine would begin working soon. That afternoon's press conference was going to be murder. There were going to be more personal questions than usual. He suspected it wouldn't just focus on the treaty with Esthar and his shocking relationship with President Loire, but that it would also be the beginning of the public's knowledge of Rinoa's disappearance.

The mere prospect of the cameras and questions was setting Squall on edge. His mind was wandering, unable to focus with all the noise. He took a sip of water to wash down the dry and tasteless bread that the insolent blond had forced into his mouth. His stomach thanked him for the meager rations, but he suspected his steadily growing migraine would force it back up soon enough. There was too much work to be done to continue arguing with everyone. He wanted a resolution found quickly, preferably one of his own making.

Mind grappling for a solution that would set his friends at ease while also keeping them uninvolved, he drew a blank. Shaking his head, dark brown tresses splaying about, he realized it simply wasn't possible to satisfy everyone. Clenching his jaw, Squall resigned himself to the only solution he could come up with at the moment. "There will be no investigation," he murmured, voice hardly above a whisper.

"You can't-" Quistis began to protest, willing to sit here all day in order to convince Squall, but she was cut off when the young man hushed her with a weary glare.

"It's not request," Squall continued, not wanting to flat out state that he was pulling rank. "I will accept one of your conditions, if you will comply with my order."

For a moment everyone else just looked at the commander, confused by his words. Slowly they began to suspect his meaning.

Frowning, Quistis weighed her options. If she didn't enforce some level of protection, then she feared the worst possible outcome somewhere further down the road. If it were all the stubborn commander would give her, then she'd take it. Resigned to the compromise, the she grinned and turned her attention to Seifer. "This makes is official Mr. Almasy. I have the contract in my office. You can sign it later, perhaps during the press conference, when we can go over the details."

"What?" Zell cried in outrage. "Are you seriously going to let this guy stay here?"

"Zell, please, just let it go," Squall spoke softly, hating that he had given. Arguing after he'd already relented would be beating a dead horse. The fact that he was accepting his rival's protection was hard enough already.

For the rowdy martial artist, the commander's request seemed to be all he needed to keep his opposition to himself.

TBC…


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Heated Arguing

"Go lay down. Get some sleep if you can," Seifer ordered sternly as he shrugged out of his trench coat and hung it on one of the hooks along the entryway wall.

Squall frowned at the blond's actions. Turning to face his older rival, he crossed his arms and tilted his chin up ever so slightly in defiance. "Don't act so comfortable. I didn't invite you in," he said seething.

"What's the matter? Is the commander's apartment messy?" Seifer joked while walking right past the younger man.

"Dammit Almasy, do you listen to a word I say," the brunet hissed as he turned to follow the blond's movements.

Seifer walked into the living room. Hopping over the back of the couch, he settled down onto the soft cushions. An amused smile turned the corners of his mouth upwards as he reveled in the anger his actions incited. Luckily, the commander could not see his express, lest his head be cleaved off his shoulders.

"What are you playing at?" Squall asked. He disliked the way his voice seemed to echo in the empty apartment. Somehow it felt vacant without Rinoa stopping by all the time.

"What do you think I'm playing at?" Seifer countered, wondering how long he could keep the quiet man talking.

Squall refused to reiterate or venture a guess. Instead, he angrily rounded the couch with and glared at the former sorceress knight.

Seifer concluded that he could not keep the commander talking for very long. While steely blue eyes shot daggers, he could not take his eyes from pouting lips, lips that refused to speak further. It had been six months since he had been able to partake in such a ritualistic argument. He had completely forgotten how enjoyable it could be.

Squall stood firmly, demanding an explanation.

Running a hand across his mouth and holding it at his chin in a show of deep thought, Seifer indulged the blunt nature of his rival. "I wasn't going to come back," he said seriously. Hopefully there would be more opportunities to royally piss Leonhart off and he could pass this fight over for a more civilized discussion.

The meaning was clear to Squall. He understood what the older boy meant. Seifer hadn't been biding time away from Garden. His childhood rival had left permanently. He wasn't sure how he should feel about that. In truth, he hadn't really given it much thought. His days after the war weren't filled with the pompous prick trying to pick fights every time they crossed paths, but those fights had somehow been therapeutic. He hadn't had a good training session since he'd received the scar on his face. Impassively, he gave a faint nod of understanding and left it at that.

"Right, well far be it from me to expect a token of some emotion at never seeing me again," Seifer muttered sarcastically, unable to hide a subtle undertone of hurt.

Shifting his weight to one leg and crossing his arms, Squall finally said, "Did you honestly expect me to be crying everyday I didn't get to see you?" His tone was harsher than he meant it to be.

Green eyes snapped up. Seifer looked stricken and bewildered. Quickly remembering himself, he let his gaze fall and turned his head to the side slightly before mumbling, "Don't be an ass. Of course I didn't."

Pinching the bridge of his nose Squall admitted, "I didn't sit outside the gates waiting for your return. I stopped waiting for anything a long time ago. You know that."

Seifer felt a wave of heat hit the back of his neck as he recalled the memories of their time at the orphanage. He distinctly recalled a small and vulnerable little boy crying outside in the pouring rain. How many days had little Squally waited for Sis to return? How many times had the small boy's heart been broken? How many times had Seifer watched from the sidelines with his own sadness?

Clearing his throat, Seifer realized it wasn't fair to expect that his rival feel some sense of loss. While they had never been friends, they had always shared a strange bond through their rivalry. He supposed that if anyone had deserved his consideration before running off with Edea, it had been Squally-boy. Perhaps his lack of regard had played into the boy's sad fate to continually be abandoned. Jaw clenching, he ignored the small pang of regret that stirred within him. "Forget it," he dismissed. He realized that he couldn't enter this conversation with the assumption that he was the designated good guy.

"Whatever," Squall replied in masked agreement.

"I came back because you need help," the blond informed, returning to the initial topic.

"I-" Squall started to respond but was cut off.

"Don't need help from anyone," Seifer finished for the stubborn commander. "I know," he agreed with mock sincerity. Leaning back he spread his arms out to either side along the back of the couch. "But I'm not just _anyone_. I'm Seifer Almasy."

Furrowing his dark brows, Squall just stared at Seifer like the man had two heads. "Get over yourself."

"You first," Seifer countered. "You're not perfect and never will be. What you're doing, as commander and headmaster is not right." The flicker of emotion he saw in the slender man's cold eyes was all the encouragement he needed. "They don't have the right to ask you to do all this. Why do you do it?"

Pink lips parted to answer, but no words came forth.

Seifer's eyes lingered on the other's mouth as he wondered what the brunet was about to say. "It is impossible to keep this up. Running a Garden is not a one-man show. The crew around you is more competent than you think. I know Cid had an easy ride with all the extra help he accepted." When those lips formed another frown, he attempted to follow the possible thoughts inside that pretty little head of the commander's. "It's not a sign of weakness to accept help, but it is a sign of being pathetically weak to collapse in front of a room full of reporters and cameras after six months of working yourself to the bone and not taking care of yourself."

Steely blue eyes snapped from their unfocused gaze at the floor.

Continuing, Seifer pointed out, "You're too pale and thin. You can still swing that blade of yours, but it doesn't sing like it used to. If I wanted to, I could render you helpless in a matter of seconds. Your reflexes are slow and your stamina is nonexistent, and last night someone got close enough to take pictures of your ass." His words were bitingly harsh in their blunt truth. "Do you still question why I'm here?"

Squall could not hide how he felt. The contempt in his eyes showed through brightly. "I don't need a _nanny,_" he commented, not daring to raise his voice and show the bullying blond that he was upset.

"No, you don't," Seifer agreed. "You need food and sleep." It was a dead end conversation. Before he could even consider that he still harbored his own indecision regarding Trepe's proposal, he stated, "I'm here to do a job. This is legitimate." He raised an eyebrow, daring the commander to lie and say an agreement hadn't already been reached back in the conference room. He knew his rival had as many noble and honorable tendencies as he lacked. No matter how influenced the weary man had been to accept a bodyguard, there was no going back.

"Since when have you been the spokesman for relying on other people?" Squall spat, angry with what Seifer was saying and angry that it was true.

Grinning smarmily, Seifer said, "Six months is a long time." Standing up he glanced around the room. He had been looking forward to grating on his rival's nerves and couldn't think of a better opportunity. The sullen man had yet to be informed of certain stipulations in his contract, one of which was residing in the same quarters. "Get some sleep. I'll get you up in time for the conference. Trepe would have my head if you were late." When he saw the stubbornly refusing expression on Leonhart's face he ordered, "Go now. What do I have to do, set your room on fire and throw some children in there before you'll get your ass in gear?"

Sighing, Squall mentally kicked himself for agreeing to this. Hesitantly, he took a step towards his bedroom, but then stopped. "What…." he didn't quite know how to phrase it without making it seem like he cared.

"What will I be doing?" Seifer supplied, suppressing a smirk at his rival's predictability. "I'll be in the spare bedroom, unpacking."

Squall's shoulders went rigid. Seifer was staying with him, within close proximity? Was there any point in arguing? He hadn't one a single argument the entire day and quite frankly, he didn't have any fight left. He walked to his room and closed the door on the most recent problem in his life. He would wait until later to protest Seifer's stay in his apartment. Hardly heeding the ex-knight's orders, he intended to rest a bit of his own volition.

--

The next Squall knew there was loud knocking at his door and muffled speaking.

"Time to get up Leonhart," Seifer's voice came from behind the closed door.

Standing, Squall staggered while moving across the room. He had actually fallen asleep. He supposed there was no helping it, even if he had only intended to rest his eyes briefly. His body felt slightly refreshed, but far from sated. The work he had accomplished earlier that morning would make up for his current slacking.

Opening his bedroom door, Squall walked out. The change brighter setting didn't seem to agitate his eyes, which meant his migraine had passed. Rubbing the final remnants of sleep from his eyes, he made his way over to the couch.

Seifer was sitting comfortably on the couch with the television on, but he turned it off at the sound of the commander's approach. Glancing behind, he saw a messy haired brunet with half lidded sleep dazed eyes. His breath hitched slightly. Seeing Leonhart like that was not something he was used to. Seeing the man unguarded felt like he was committing some forbidden act.

Realizing he had been caught staring, Seifer scratched his head and fought to keep his expression straight. He would die before he blushed. The pretty boy commander was attractive enough, but effeminate features were not so alluring that someone as straight him would ever harbor a single desire. "No doubt Trepe will show up soon. You should get dressed," he managed to say.

"I am dressed," Squall replied succinctly. He had on his usual clothes; donning a white t-shirt and black leather pants. Despite his rank as Commander, he kept his image of a low ranking mercenary because it suited his tastes.

"This is politics, get on your uniform," Seifer rebuked.

"You're delusional if you think I'd actually listen to you," Squall hissed before turning and heading for the main door.

Before the commander could take more than a single step, a strong arm wrapped around his waist. Faster than he could react he was sharply pulled backwards.

Seifer was not about to let his stormy eyed charge get away so easily. Neither of them could stand to obey the other, but at the same time neither of them could handle the other not listening to them. It was something of a catch 22. Seifer was beginning to like the fact that he had some professional authority over the pale brunet. He would abuse his authority every chance he could.

With unpredictability on his side, the ex-knight was easily able to take the smaller man by surprise. His arm had snagged around a slim waist and he promptly dragged the commander over the back of the couch. Moving quickly, he stopped kicking legs by sitting atop them.

"Seifer!" Squall cried. "What the hell are you doing?" Fisting the green sweater, he tried to shove the larger man off. He was officially pissed off.

"Wear your uniform," the blond ordered.

Looking defiantly up into green eyes, Squall quirked an eyebrow. "You _are_ delusional," he commented, refusing to do anything his rival ordered him to do.

"You will change," Seifer pressed again, the confidence in his tone only serving to further taunt the commander.

"I won't," Squall hissed out, eyes narrowing.

Roughly Seifer grabbed the slim wrists and forcefully pinned them above the brunet's head. Leaning back he looked down as if admiring his work. The commander was successfully pinned beneath him, which was quite an accomplishment. He was playing with fire however, and knew Leonhart's retaliation would be a painful one.

Narrowed grey-blue eyes seemed to realize the defenseless predicament he was in. Squall jerked his legs and arms to test just how immobile he was. It would seem he was effectively trapped. He would hardly concede to wear his scratchy and stiff uniform simply because the ex-knight had him pinned to the couch.

"Wear the uniform. It's what you should be wearing at one of these things."

"No," Squall refused once more.

"Why not?" Seifer asked.

"Seifer," Squall growled. If only he hadn't left Lionheart in his bedroom. He tried twisting about and bucking the blond off, but it was no use. "Get off me," he ordered, falling still.

"Wear the uniform," Seifer ordered redundantly.

"No."

"Yes."

Squall simply glared at his rival's gloating face. Relaxing his body, he sank down into the cushions deeper, squirming uncomfortably for a moment and then falling still. He was patient enough to wait for Quistis' arrival, at which time the ex-knight would be forced to let go. With any luck, the head instructor would reconsider the blond's position as his bodyguard for such treatment.

"Do you think to wait me out?" Seifer questioned. His anger was pricked when the stubborn young man seemed to relinquish control without any worry or fear. They weren't even friends and the brunet seemed to have some solid belief that he wouldn't do anything more than bark orders.

"That was the plan, unless you decide you value your life and get off now," Squall said. Wondering how long he would be waiting, he craned his head back against the couch, trying to get a glimpse of the clock on the wall. The couch's armrest blocked his view, but he was confident it wouldn't be much longer.

Feeling as though he'd been struck by genius, Seifer acted on impulse and leaned forward. Dipping his head low, he attacked the smooth and pale skin of the commander's neck.

"Hey!" Squall shouted. What the hell was Seifer doing? Eyes growing wide in shock, he felt warm lips pressed against his neck. Too shocked to react right away, he began struggling furiously at the feel of a wet tongue and pressure from a sucking mouth.

Seifer had set to the task of giving Leonhart a scandalously prominent hickey. With skin so pale, even a slight kiss mark would be obvious. Regardless of fulfilling the requirements of his ingenious idea, he carried on nibbling and sucking unnecessarily. He was distantly alarmed that he had to contain himself and not trail his mouth elsewhere, but he figured it was merely his desire to push his rival's buttons.

When Seifer was quite finished, he gave a final lick to his mark. Briefly, he thought the commander shivered beneath him, but he was certain it had only been more struggling. Pulling back, he was forced to school his expression with meticulous care, lest he reveal the shock and preposterous attraction he felt at the sight his eyes were presented with. Leonhart lay beneath him, a position that had been rather suggestive from the beginning, head pressed back with silky haired splayed out beneath. Pale cheeks were blushing and stormy blue eyes were averted almost shyly. A slender neck was now blemished with his kiss mark, a rouged spot still slick from his mouth. He had never seen such an indecent display, and he wouldn't be a man if he didn't acknowledge the sheer sexuality of it.

Slowly, far too slowly for Seifer's ego to remain intact, reality sunk in. Hastily removing himself from atop the commander, he awaited the painful retaliation he had known would eventually find him. Struck bluntly, Leonhart's fist connected with his mouth. The taste of blood did not serve to calm him or instill a greater sense of self. In fact, he was almost unhinged by the way his eyes were drawn to the stalking lion's well-shaped ass as the man retreated angrily.

Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Seifer sighed. Dealing with Leonhart was going to be more trouble than he thought. His memory had failed to do the young man's stubborn qualities justice. His reaction to such challenges was becoming a bit unpredictable. Wiping his bruised and cut lip, he walked to the other bedroom. It wouldn't be long before Trepe arrived.

Squall came out wearing his SeeD uniform, metals and ranks in place. The high collar hid the hickey Seifer had given him. He had been greatly disturbed by the ex-knight's inappropriate actions until he had realized the connection between marking his neck and the high collar of the uniform he had refused to wear.

Seifer could not contain his amusement when the commander came out dressed properly. He laughed out loud, making no effort to contain it. '

"Bastard," Squall spoke vehemently. Still abruptly, he eyed the blond dubiously. "Why are you dressed like that?" he asked.

"It's what all the cool kids are wearing," the knight replied with a smirk. The silence that followed let him know his sense of humor would not be appreciated, so he explained, "I'm going to go with you, but my popularity isn't what it used to be. If I go like this, I'll be just another reporter."

The commander's responded with a harsh glare. "You're a fool," he stated testily, still livid with the older boy.

"Really? I have it on high authority that I'm a genius," the blond returned.

Scoffing, Squall gave the tall man a once over. "Whose authority." It was rhetorical.

The knocking at the door stirred the bickering pair from their isolated world.

"Come in," Seifer called out, grinning at the scowl this earned from his rival.

There was a pause before the door glided open and heals clicked against the tiled entryway. Before anyone came into view, a voice called out, "You know, it'd be nice if you dressed appropriately to one of these things for once." It was Quistis. "There have been a few articles lately about…." As she walked further in, she stopped herself and just stared.

It was unexpected to find Squall actually wearing his uniform. Every event was a battle to coerce the commander into dressing properly. Thusly, she had lost each battle. Not even Rinoa had been capable of persuading the recalcitrant man. His refusal to dress the part was subject to scrutiny among the other Garden commanders and veteran soldiers. The media had also played with it. Crystal blue eyes stared in disbelief, seeing Squall dressed regally. Her attention was drawn away from her commander upon noticing Seifer. "Seifer, you look ridiculous. Take that off," she reprimanded.

Seifer had discarded his casual apparel. Donning a sharp black suit, he was dressed to a T, from his cufflinks to his stylish Dick Tracy hat that was added for dramatic affect. Raising a hand to falsely adjust a cuff he smirked. "Don't try and mask your feelings for me Trepe. Just cause you think I look sexy right now doesn't mean you should get angry."

Huffing, Quistis faltered for a response before eventually scoffing and dismissing the man's insinuation. In truth, while she didn't care to see Seifer in any respect that wasn't platonic, she could not deny what any sane woman would. The ex-knight was dashingly handsome, something made more apparent by the simple change of clothing.

Rolling her eyes, the head instructor crossed her arms. Inside she winced at how the blond towering before her would not be fooled for a second. "The conference is in fifteen minutes. We need to go and meet President Loire right now."

Reaching up, Seifer clasped a hand around the stiff top of his black hat and smoothly took it off. "Okay, no problem. His highness is ready to go." His attempts at blending in with a room full of reporters would no doubt backfire, but he hopeful that his presence might distract the muckrakers enough to lessen the quick fire questions shot at the commander. It was now his job to take care of his rival, insane as that was.

"Why weren't you in your office?" Quistis asked Squall, shifting from foot to foot. It was a bit awkward standing in the presence of two extremely attractive young men.

Frowning, Seifer nearly spoke against his former instructor. It was obvious Leonhart needed to be resting, not working. Still, his thoughts might mislead his audience into thinking he actually cared, so he didn't rely instinctively. Instead, he commented, "He had to make himself look all pretty. I can't promise that he'll smile for the cameras though."

Giving the knight a confused look Quistis ignored the disrespectful tone and questioned, "Why do I get the distinct impression that you intend to go to this meeting?"

"Because I do. I'm not Leonhart's nanny for nothing," the cocky blond explained.

"Nanny?" the instructor intoned skeptically.

Smirking, Seifer muttered, "Leonhart's word, not mine." Standing straight, he subtly reaffirmed his intentions to attend the conference.

"I can't have you in those rooms." Quistis held a hand up to halt the large man's steps.

"Then you've got a problem," Seifer declared, staring down at the blonde woman. "Leonhart goes no where that I'm not allowed. Either I go or he stays. It's your choice."

Quistis knew when to give up. Arguing with either of the two rivals was like arguing with a wall. "Fine, let's go," she caved. Pausing for a moment as a thought struck her, she looked back to her reticent commander. "Squall, why _did_ you decide to wear your uniform?"

Squall didn't answer. The blush that crept to his cheeks was terribly self-deprecating.

Seifer seemed to have sensed the distressed feelings Squall felt and walked up beside him. Ruffling the brunet's hair he spoke for the commander again, "Because he's a good boy, aren't you?"

"Whatever" Squall mumbled angrily, stalking to the doorway.

TBC… please review!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The Embers of Desire

"Commander Leonhart!" the reporters chimed collectively as their hands shot into the air like overly eager students in a classroom. With their notepads in hand and pencils held aloft, it seemed as though even the commander's every movement was being noted.

Flashes went off and the whizzing of the filmstrips rolling filled the room. Official business had been taken care of already. Balamb Garden had cosigned an agreement with the nation of Esthar. The declaration of allies had not been Squall's idea. In fact, the reticent commander was far from liking the move. He had been given an ultimatum, something he hardly appreciated.

For all Laguna Loire's carefree tendencies and clueless innocence, the Estharian President was one hell of a political mastermind. Esthar was a secluded nation with technology far more advanced than anywhere else. With the desolate aftermath of the most recent sorceress war, cities were in shambles and the economy was crushed. Esthar had remained virtually untouched, excluding the Lunar Cry. Not only had Esthar been specifically prepared for such an event as a crazed sorceress, but they had also been well equipped to aide in repairing the damage for less fortunate countries.

Regardless of Esthar's capability, the hidden city-nation had made no move to help anyone. As a result, it had become Squall's responsibility to persuade President Loire to give a hand. Though his relationship with the President had been a well kept secret until that day, Commanders Trent and Zephlar from the other gardens had known of it and made it quite clear that it was his duty to take advantage of his blood ties.

What Squall had failed to foresee was the true politician hidden beneath Laguna's goofball exterior. The former Galbadian soldier had agreed to do everything in his power to help, if Balamb Garden forged an alliance with Esthar. Obviously, Squall could not vouch for Galbadia or Trabia, but the President had settled for Balamb. It was a great move for Esthar. They had more than enough resources to help out and now they had the assurance that no matter what happened in the future, Balamb Garden would not be sending hired mercenaries to attack them. The treaty also held a rather intricately tangled web of words that basically stated that if Esthar went to war with any nation, all Garden facilities excluded, then Balamb would have to back them up.

Some people, mainly SeeD, had questioned why Esthar hadn't helped before. The answer was simple. Esthar had suffered previous tyranny from Adel and were not quick to feel sympathy. Since no one really knew too much about them, very few people expected anything from them. For all any civilian knew, Esthar was still a myth or legend.

While President Loire received much praise and commendation for his caring gesture, even if it was six months delayed, Squall was receiving scrutiny for creating an alliance. It was understood that as a facility that trained mercenaries for hire, alliances were forbidden. Commanders Trent and Zephlar were opposed to the move, regardless of making it clear that it was Commander Leonhart's duty to persuade Esthar to help out.

Squall's grey-blue eyes scanned to room carefully. It was important to know each reporter by his or her name and to have an idea for what questions they were going to ask. Sadly, he could barely remember his secretary's name, let alone a room full of overly curious gossip mongrels. He doubted it would have made a difference. They were all going to have the same thing on their mind.

Disregarding who he was gesturing to, Squall finally chose one of the many hands that were waving frantically in the air.

While the rest of the room settled down and made ready to quote the commander, the woman he had called upon straightened up and smiled. "Commander, how does your relationship with President Loire effect Balamb Garden's relations with Esthar?"

"It doesn't," the commander answered evenly.

This process went on, one question after another.

"Commander Leonhart, how are you dealing with the other gardens in this alliance?"

Suppressing the urge to comment sarcastically, Squall swept the hair from his eyes and responded, "This alliance is germane only to Balamb Garden. Trabia and Galbadia have no involvement."

"Sir, what are the responses of the other gardens?"

"I have no comment for you at this time. I can only speak for Balamb Garden." It was inevitable that Trabia and Galbadia denounce his decision, but he would deal with that when the time came.

Feeling a distant pounding in his head, Squall rubbed his temple casually while Laguna answered a few questions. He felt like a fish out of water. Dropping his hand, he straightened. He loathed press conferences. His only reprieve was the long winded President. Laguna was a reporter's worst nightmare, speaking at great lengths about anything but what had been asked in the first place. Lucky for Squall, that meant a few intermissions.

While the cheery man ranted for the millionth time about how regretful it was to be estranged from Commander Leonhart, Squall surveyed the crowd, trying to spot Seifer. Before he could manage to find the knight's head of golden blond hair, he was asked an unprompted question.

"Mr. Leonhart, does Miss Heartilly's disappearance have any correlation with the man who's been stalking you?"

Nearly showing the surprise he felt, Squall managed to form a reply, "We have no reason to believe that is the case." He eyed the reporter carefully.

The same reporter followed up, "Then, what is your belief on her mysterious absence? Has she left you?"

Squall stared at the older man for a moment. Dark brown hair, almost black, with hints of gray near the temples, a stern square jaw. His dark eyes seemed to glint with amusement. Blocking out the noise of cameras and few whispers among other reporters, the only sound Squall heard was the tightening grip of his leather gloves. Taking a steadying breath, he answered in the only way he could manage, "I have no comment at the moment." Clenching his jaw, he did his best not to send a harsh glare in the direction of the man who had asked such a personal question. "I would, however, like to comment that this is a conference about Balamb Garden's alliance with Esthar and not an inquiry into my personal affairs."

"But, sir," the audacious reporter continued, earning several gasps from his fellow reporters nearby. "Is your safety not a matter of the public's concern?"

"No, it isn't," Squall spoke more harshly than he intended.

It was then that Quistis stepped in and called an end to the conference. Squall, Laguna, Quistis, and Kiros stood from the long table at the head of the room and walked through a door on the wall behind them. The door led to the conference room where they had signed the document for the alliance, not to mention where the gang had eaten breakfast that morning.

Once inside the room, Squall felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The conference was over. He could return to his office and work in complete solitude. Before he took his leave, he needed to know how that last reporter had known so much.

Seifer strode in from the other entrance at the far end of the conference room. Grinning smugly, he strode closer.

Kiros crouched slightly in preparation to fend of the intruder. Laguna also seemed to tense up, ready to fight. It was not a good idea to be a stranger and walk in on such a group of people.

It was a moment later that Selphie bound in behind the handsome blond and skipped over to Laguna to give him a hug.

"Laguna!" Selphie greeted. "Kiros!" She released the President to hug his bodyguard, much to poor Kiros' dismay.

"Selphie, it's good to see you." Laguna returned in mirrored enthusiasm.

Turning around, the cheerful girl finally took notice of the man she'd whizzed by. Her smile widened as she looked the tall knight up and down. Giggling, she said, "Looking good, Seifer."

Seifer smirked, hardly unaware of his attractive appearance, but looked beyond the messenger girl and at the head instructor. Flashing his pearly whites, he jibed, "See Trepe, our girl Tilmitt here knows how to be honest with herself. Why can't you admit how damn hot you think I am?"

Seifer's humor was lost on the two older men in the room. Kiros Seagill and Laguna had never had the pleasure of being exposed to the blond's sense of sarcastic humor.

Quistis could not suppress a mild blush, causing the narcissistic ex-knight to laugh at her. Glaring, she crossed her arms defensively, not appreciating being made fun of.

"Seifer Almasy?" Kiros questioned, hostility apparent in his tone.

"The one and only," Seifer admitted proudly.

Squall gently slapped his hand to his forehead. This was one confrontation he could do without.

"And why is Adel's lapdog anywhere near the President of Esthar?" the dark skinned man asked Squall, accusation clear.

"Adel?" Seifer remarked incredulously. "No, I don't recall being her knight. Ultimecia on the other hand is another story," he corrected.

"You help one, you help them all," Kiros countered, taking a step in front of Laguna.

"Relax Seagill. I'm no enemy of Esthar." As if in a show of sincerity, or perhaps mock, Seifer reached up and removed his hat to place it against his heart.

"What do you want Seifer?" Squall asked, half hoping that the blond would say there was some catastrophe and it required his immediate attention. If that were the case, he could skip out on the personal time Laguna would try to have with him.

"I wanted to tell Trepe that she'll need to find another instructor for this afternoon's class on basic spell casting," Seifer supplied smoothly with feigned innocence, as though he had nothing to do with the regular instructor not being available.

"That's Fujin's class. Why won't she be able to teach today?" Quistis asked warily.

Answering vaguely, the blond said, "I sent her on a little assignment."

Sighing, Quistis was faced with the fact that Raijin and Fujin would always answer to Seifer above everyone else. "What assignment?" she inquired automatically.

"She's tailing that journalist jerk-off from before. I think his name was Haden Adams."

Quizzical blue eyes widened behind wire rimmed glasses. Hastily, Quistis flipped open the folder she was carrying and scanned the pages.

"His name won't be in there," Seifer informed. "From what I've gathered, he's not an actual reporter. He's got balls though, not to mention some very well informed sources."

Tucking a stray braided strand behind his ear, Kiros gave a small nod to everyone. "That takes care of what I was going to discuss with you Commander."

Frowning at the cold attitude he was receiving from Kiros, Squall watched the lanky man walk away.

"I'll see you at dinner, Squall." Laguna looked hopefully into his son's eyes.

Squall clenched his jaw and fought to keep a scowl from his face. The only reply he could manage to his father's request was a small nod. His nod seemed to mean the world to the longhaired man, as his youthful features lit up with joy.

Flipping her folder shut, Quistis gave Seifer an approving smile. "It would seem my confidence has not been misplaced."

"Gee-whiz Trepe, I don't know what to say. Does this mean you'll sleep with me?" Seifer shot lewdly.

Rolling her eyes, the blonde instructor responded, "Sometimes you're worse than Irvine."

"Ouch, that hurts," Seifer said lamely, walking over towards Leonhart. "Come on, let's get going." He casually placed a hand on the small of the lithe commander's back, applying just enough pressure to make his intentions clear.

Not wanting to be escorted, Squall stood firmly in place. "Go where?" he asked.

Dropping his voice to a whisper, Seifer replied, "To your place. This whole morning hasn't exactly been a picnic for you and now you have dinner with daddy dearest later."

The deep tone of the ex-knight's voice made the hairs on the back of Squall's neck stand up. It suddenly felt a little too warm in the room. Shaking his chocolate strands, he ignored the odd feeling. "I'm going to my office."

"No, you're not," Seifer stated firmly, giving a gentle push to the smaller man's slender backside. It wasn't forceful enough to bodily move the brunet, just enough to clarify that he wasn't backing down. "Hey Trepe," he spoke without taking his eyes from the top of that silky mop of hair. "The commander's got some time off coming to him, right? He's taking the rest of the day off. Think you can handle things?"

The response was immediate. "Of course," both Quistis and Selphie chimed.

Squall still refused to budge. He stood resolutely, glaring at the two women he now considered traitors.

Seifer didn't need to see into those stormy eyes to know that the brunet was furious. Dropping his voice again, swearing he had detected a peculiar tensing, he whispered, "I don't have a problem with marking you up again in front of everyone." There was definitely a reaction this time. Pout lips parted in an inaudible gasp.

Jerking away, Squall glared up at the ex-knight. "You wouldn't dare," he hissed.

"Is that a challenge?" Seifer asked with a playful smirk.

Grey-blue eyes widened, disbelief registering as it became apparent the blond man had every intention of pinning him to the table. While the outcome might simply result in a scuffle, the display itself would be wholly unprofessional and incriminatingly suspicious. Bottling his anger, Squall bit down harshly on his lip, forcing himself not to fillet the cocky bastard right there. Taking a step forward, he distanced himself from his rival while grudgingly complying.

As Seifer moved to follow his furiously complacent charge, he placed his hat on Selphie's head. The last thing he heard was the joyful girl's giggling before he left.

Catching up to Leonhart, Seifer shadowed the slim commander all the way back to their joint residence. It would seem the younger man was sulking. He was determined to win every argument within the twenty-four hour testing period. If he backed down, he knew there was little chance of ever getting his rival to listen to him. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but sometime within that past hour or so, he had decided to take his role seriously. He would be Leonhart's bodyguard, if only to ease a bored mind.

As they turned the corner, the commander's apartment in sight, Seifer noticed a black fur ball sitting before the doorway.

Hearing his master, Gabriel's ears shot up. Scampering closer, he met the sulking brunet halfway.

Recognizing the animal as the one from the pictures, Seifer reached a hand down in greeting. The cat seemed uninterested in anything but its master, but took the time to sniff his hand before turning away and trailing after Squall, who had walked right past the feline. He couldn't help but find the creature's cold greeting rather familiar. Perhaps it was true that a pet and pet owner shared similar personalities.

Squall didn't wait for Seifer. Gabriel barely managed to make it inside following at his heels.

Seeing the door shut, Seifer sighed and unclasped the holster of his blade. It was quite possible that within the privacy of his own apartment, the commander wouldn't hesitate to commit murder. Wary of the brunet's mood, Seifer entered the code and opened the door. The fact that the print scanner was now disabled wasn't exactly something he approved of, but since the device had proved useless, he wouldn't strike an argument over it.

To Seifer's relief, the younger man was not waiting to cleave him in two. Instead, he was distressed to find him curled up on the couch with the cat kneading his chest. Lionheart was unstrapped and resting on the coffee table, while the stiff jacket of the commander's uniform was haphazardly draped over the back of the couch.

The feeling he received from the sight of the unguarded ice prince was completely different than anything he had expected. Seeing Squall dozing so carefree and without being ordered to do so was unsettling.

"Squall?" Seifer called, rounding the couch and taking a seat at the opposite end from his tired charge.

"Nnh?" was the mumbled response from an already half-asleep brunet.

"You're going to sleep?" Seifer questioned, not sure he should believe what his eyes were seeing.

"Nnh," was Squall's response again.

"Without being forced?" Seifer tilt his head in confusion. He wanted to shake the man awake and check to see if stormy blue eyes were dilated, but he had been watching too closely for the commander to have taken any drugs. He thought to question the brunet's choice of using the narrow couch, but decided he didn't care where the man slept so long as it happened.

For a moment dark eyelids squeezed shut before clouded eyes peered through narrow slits. As if in confirmation, Squall shifted his form to face the other way. Back facing away from the couch, he curled closer to himself, almost furrowing into the creviced cushions. Gabriel seemed accustomed to the shifting movements and leapt out of the way before gently patting his way back into his master's arms. "Observant, aren't we?" the brunet remarked sarcastically after shifting his body.

Under normal circumstances, Seifer would have scoffed, taking the reserved man's humor in stride. At the moment he was having trouble finding his own breath. He had the distinct feeling that he was the only person alive Leonhart would ever reveal such vulnerability to. He didn't know how to take it. He felt as though he had been given a huge responsibility, like it was his job to make sure no one else saw this side of the man.

Unable to disturb his resting charge, Seifer grabbed the remote on the small coffee table and turned the television on. The only stations programmed in were news channels, which was something he had learned earlier that day. He had been surprised by it considering Rinoa had been living in the apartment, or at least sleeping over occasionally. He was keenly aware that there was no sense of personality in the apartment, as though the inhabitant had just moved in and hadn't settled down enough to decorate.

Turning the volume down so that it wouldn't disturb the sleeping beauty, Seifer tried to concentrate on the screen in front of him. Concentrating on the news proved to be an impossible task. Green eyes kept darting glances to the napping commander. The brunet's deceivingly small form was clad in black from head to toe, exaggerating the paleness of already pale skin. Those loose pants, which hadn't been tailored, to compensate for a recent weight loss, made him look even smaller. Without bulky boots, the folds fell to cover part of his feet.

Before Seifer knew it, his eyes fixated, roaming his childhood rival's body with avid interest. Not conscious of his actions, he indulged whatever interest his eyes found. After several long moments, his attention was drawn to the kiss mark on the brunet's neck. It was a mark indicating a lover's possession. It was a mark he had made.

Hastily, Seifer stood up and stalked to his new room. The thoughts forming in his mind were not right. Such an attraction was meant for a pretty little number he met at a club in Deling, not Squall Leonhart. Certainly he hadn't been celibate long enough that his desperate libido was turning to the nearest piece of tail in sight. If he was going to ogle anyone as a last resort, it should have been Trepe or the messenger girl. He supposed it was simply the amount of time he had spent with his rival. The entire day had been a bit weird. His lifestyle had changed completely.

Excusing his overactive hormones for a suppressed need to have a quick fling, Seifer changed from his suit. Dinner with President Loire was most likely not going to be a formal event, so he donned a comfortable pair of jeans and a grey hoodie.

Whether to prove that he was not the least bit attracted to the moody brunet, or to keep an eye over the sleeping boy, Seifer returned to the living room. He noticed that Squall had curled up a bit more. The cat seemed to find such squished quarters too confined and sat on the cushion next to Seifer.

In another gesture of friendliness, Seifer reached a hand out to pet the black fur ball. Bright yellow eyes seemed to study him with a level of intelligence above that of a normal feline. He had never been a cat person, so he wasn't privy to proper feline behavior. Regardless, there seemed something odd about this creature. Though friendly enough, accepting hit touch with a purr, it was hardly as affectionate as towards Squally-boy.

"You like him a lot, don't you?" Seifer questioned aloud. He half expected an actual response, but when the animal did nothing but stare at him, he returned his focus to the TV.

Depending on how long Squall was going to sleep, Seifer might have to find something other than the news to keep his mind's focus away from his rival. Even as he reminded himself that a quick tumble with a cute new recruit would relieve him of his creeping desires, he couldn't keep his eyes from stealing occasional glances.

TBC…Please review!!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Games and Emotions

Time passed slowly and lazily amidst the dull silence within Leonhart's apartment. Seifer was still confused by the size of the commander's dormitory room. Granted it was fairly large with enough luxuries to make it an official apartment, but he would have figured the solitude seeking man would have a new wing added onto Balamb Garden just for pacing and brooding and whatever else the introverted man did during occasional downtime. Then again, he supposed his rival might be the frugal sort.

Studying his rival, who was still curled up on the couch beside him, Seifer was bemused by the silence and company. He thought about the most irrelevant and trivial of matters, simply because he could.

What did Leonhart do when the world wasn't falling apart? He suspected the talented fighter was a bit of a bookworm, which would explain why Trepe had always shown unfair favor.

Chuckling quietly, Seifer concluded that Leonhart was definitely a bookworm. The image fit the effeminate man perfectly, far more suiting than being considered a fierce warrior.

He could picture the studious brunet pouring over entire volumes stacked high around a library desk. His mind's eye threw in a pair of glasses, which didn't quite fit and continuously fell low, forcing the boy to correct them. He imagined soft brown bangs being too long, obscuring stormy blue eyes and disturbing the cadet's intense concentration every time the hair needed to be impatiently raked back with delicate fingers.

Smirking, Seifer glanced at Leonhart's head, where the same choppy brown was splayed about, covering most of his rival's face. The only visible features were full lips, soft pink in color. Those lips became darker when gnawing teeth sank into them out of habit.

Licking his own lips, Seifer was unaware that he was even daydreaming. What had begun as bored musing about what the almighty commander did on days off became much more. His picture of the brunet in the library altered. He envisioned the commander sitting behind that large mahogany desk, completely absorbed in mounds of tedious reports. Wire rimmed glasses rode dangerous low, but the brunet didn't seem to notice. Bowed lips were parted as the commander thoughtfully nibbled on the end of a pen.

It wasn't until thoughtful nibbling became sucking and moaning that Seifer's eyes shot wide and his bored daze shattered. Running his index finger and thumb across his eyelids, he swallowed hard while willing himself to banish all images dancing in the forefront of his mind. It was bad enough that he had found himself slightly attracted to the commander. Even if his attraction was nothing more than a repressed libido, it was still bad. It seemed he was in dire need of release.

Grumbling, the blond stood up. His wild imagination was probably to be blamed on the fact that he'd been sitting right next to the only screwable person within sight.

Stalking away from the couch, suddenly wary of straying too close to his rival, he strode into the kitchen. Excluding the bedrooms, there was only one window in the entire apartment. The large window in the kitchen was hidden by a long set of blinds. Drawing the blind up, green eyes gazed out at the sea, taking notice of the ominous storm clouds that hung low over brooding waters.

Wondering how fast the storm was rolling in, distant rumbling sounded as if on cue. It was still too light out to catch any lightening.

As something brushed against his leg, he tore his eyes from the dark waters. Glancing down, Seifer regarded the black fur ball with suspicion. "What?" he muttered.

A throaty meow was the only answer.

Raising his eyebrows, Seifer reasoned that if the cat were more intelligent than the average feline, then the creature suited the commander quite well. Humoring the situation, he ventured, "You hungry?"

Another meow, almost excited this time.

Humming a note of understanding, Seifer glanced around the spotless kitchen. Considering he had only arrived that morning, he felt as though he was snooping while searching for something to feed the cat. He didn't really care if the animal was well fed, but it gave his mind something to concentrate on.

Peering out the open kitchen's entryway, he looked at the back of the couch. Seeing the room was just as he had left it, he began opening up the cupboards. Finding nothing more than neatly stored necessities, there were only plates and bowls, pots and pans.

Frowning, Seifer had the distinct feeling that none of the culinary implements were used very often. Judging from the floral pattern that adorned matching cups and plates, he would also assume the brunet hadn't been the one to stock up.

Eventually, he opened the final cupboard above the stove. There were a few scarce essential ingredients in it. Only the basics for cooking: baking soda, oil, flour, sugar, spices, etc. Tilting his head in confusion, he tried to picture someone like Leonhart cooking. Furrowing his brows, he found the idea was just as fitting as a studious Leonhart. It was odd. He had never thought of his rival doing anything but fighting and scowling. Now, there seemed a whole array of activities that were likely aspects of the brunet's life.

Closing the dark wooden door with a small click, Seifer turned around in search of some other storage place. The steely glint of the refrigerator reflected his image back at him. Walking the few steps across the tiled floor, he opened it up. His frown deepened as his mood darkened.

He gazed back out into the living room, willing the sleeping commander to acknowledge his disapproval. There was nothing in the spacious fridge except bottled water, a bowl of tuna fish, and a carton of eggs. Beginning to catch on to the trend he was seeing, he opened the freezer. Growling in anger, he closed it with a hasty thud, finding it completely empty.

It was a miracle that the world's wonder boy wasn't skin and bones. From what Trepe had explained to him, the commander lived in his office. The only time the young man wasn't in the office was to come here, to this apartment, for a shower and change of clothes. There was no instance where his stubborn charge made a trip to the cafeteria.

With his mood sullied, Seifer tersely grabbed the only edible bit of food in the entire kitchen. Pulling the plastic wrapping off, he set the bowl down on the floor, where a patient cat came forth and began to eat happily. Wadding the cellophane into a small ball, he located the trashcan beneath the sink and discarded it.

Leaning against the counter that viewed out into the main flat, he studied the apartment carefully. Though there were no unpacked boxes lying about, the impression of an empty, unsettled apartment remained. There was a square clock on the wall to tell the time, but no pictures. On the longest wall before the couch was a decent plasma screen, hanging as the sole attraction, but the channels it received were hardly entertaining. For any other man, the television would have been a nice piece of equipment to hook up with satellite broadcasting, to watch Galbadia's yearly sports games. There was little doubt that the brunet's bedroom was similarly decorated.

Exhaling in frustration, he shook his head. The hotel rooms he had stayed in for the past six months had contained more presence than the commander's quarters. Trepe had not exaggerated in the least. His rival was in poor shape. "I leave you alone for a little while and look what happens."

A gentle pattering of rain began hitting the kitchen window. The sky had become significantly darker as the stormy clouds condensed overhead. Locating the light switch, he turned the ceiling light on in the kitchen. Again he looked toward the living room, in case the sudden change in lighting had woken the sleeping commander.

He watched as the fur ball suddenly appeared near the couch, jumping gracefully up. With a swish of a dark tail, the animal disappeared down onto the cushions, or rather, onto Leonhart. Retrieving the empty bowl, he gave it a quick rinse before storing it in an empty dishwasher.

Running a hand through his golden blond hair, he wracked his brain for something to do. It was boring just standing around. It was a little after four o'clock.

The President had never specified what time they would be dining. Seifer figured he would wake Squall up at around five, just in case they were expected early or something.

Considering it for a moment, Seifer was reminded that he hadn't actually been invited. In fact, his presence was likely to cause a bit of a stir. Grinning, he thought ahead to the argument he was sure to have with the brunet over it. There was no way he was letting Squall run off to dinner without him. The stubborn man would take advantage of his absence and end up not eating anything, and then run off to the headmaster's office.

A knock broke the still silence of the apartment. Starting, Seifer stood straight. He wondered who it might be. Walking swiftly, he went to personally answer the call. He tried to think of how many other people might know the commander's key code. He knew Trepe had it, since she had let herself in earlier that day. Did the rest of the merry bunch of do-gooders know it? If Dincht was privy, then there was no telling how many others knew it as well. Unable to eliminate the possibility that the intruder had hacked the system, it was unlikely that any lead would result from learning exactly how the intrusion had occurred. He wouldn't have been surprised if the unconcerned commander hadn't even locked the door.

Saving his questions for later, Seifer opened the door.

Standing in the corridor outside was a disgruntled cowboy and a perpetually cheerful messenger girl.

Not waiting for permission, Selphie trotted inside, slipping her suede boots off before entering the main room. A less hasty Irvine bowed his head and tapped the brim of his hat in greeting before shouldering past the tall blond. They were both toting plastic bags.

Door closing securely, Seifer turned and strode over to the couch. While Tilmitt and Kinneas stood near the alcove that viewed into the kitchen, he took his place a noticeable distance apart from them. Glancing down, he spotted the commander's soundly sleeping form. Leaning back, he regarded the two guests expectantly.

"Where's Squall?" Selphie asked, glancing around the dim quarters as if he might be lurking in some corner.

"Sleeping," Seifer replied, crossing his arms.

Irvine's eyebrows disappeared beneath the cover of his hat. "He's sleeping?" he questioned, casting a glance towards the door he knew lead to Squall's bedroom.

"Not there," Seifer felt compelled to inform them, lest they make too much noise. "He's on the couch." He gave a nod to the side, indicating directly behind himself.

Irvine's expression seemed to darken slightly, a frown forming on his lips. Amethyst eyes staring intently at the back of the couch, he seemed lost in thought.

Selphie glanced around with uncertainty. The atmosphere felt heavy, as if they were intruding. Judging from the look in the blond knight's eyes, she would venture a guess that Seifer felt exactly that way. Normally she would have stuck her tongue out and reminded the man, who had only just returned after half a year away, that she and Irvine were welcome in Squall's place. Oddly, she could not bring herself to do this, since it actually did feel like they were intruding. Miraculously, the commander was sleeping, albeit on the couch. Who was she to argue with the tall knight when the man had obviously done what they couldn't?

Meekly clearing her throat, Selphie explained, "We brought some groceries for dinner."

Brows rising in question, Seifer said quizzically, "Groceries?"

"We were just talking with Laguna," Irvine began to explain further. "Quistis told us that Squall had been wrangled into eating with his dad. Assuming there was a communication failure, we talked with the President to sort out the details."

"You know how he can be," Selphie added. Upon remembering that Seifer had never really met the man, she corrected, "Okay, maybe not. Sometimes he assumes things that haven't been confirmed."

Seifer thought back to the way the President had simply asked about dinner, but hadn't specified a time or place. He gave a nod of understanding.

Irvine continued, "Laguna went on and on about he was looking forward to eating some home cooked meal of the commander's."

Seifer was forced to stifle his scoffing laughter. Where had such a crackpot idea come from?

Sensing the knight's reaction, Irvine responded, "That's how Laguna is."

"Hey, he was really happy about it," Selphie said in defense of their loveable friend.

"Happy, but totally off base," Irvine drawled.

"Anyway, we brought some things over for dinner. We figured Squall wouldn't have much on hand with such short notice." Selphie turned and rummaged through the bag.

"Can you cook?" Seifer asked, amused by the idea of anyone who had spent their life eating in a cafeteria fumbling around in the kitchen.

Hand holding a jar of tomato sauce for a long moment, Selphie set it on the counter dejectedly. "Not very well," she admitted.

Chuckling, Irvine reminded, "The last time you tried to make pancakes, you managed to ruin Zell's appetite for a whole weak."

Selphie responded with a hard punch to the gunman's arm. Pouting, she returned, "I'm better than you. You tried to put the icing on the cake before we put it in the oven."

Rolling his eyes at the display of masked affection, Seifer wondered if his brief daydream of Leonhart baking would become a reality. His own skills in the kitchen were questionable at best, but passable when it came to nutrition. Glancing impatiently at the clock on a nearby wall, he realized it was already four-thirty. "What time is President Loire arriving?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. Probably whenever he can't wait any longer," Selphie answered.

"Which could be any minute now," Irvine added. For all Laguna's loveable worth, the older man wound up being nothing more than added stress in his son's life. It was simply bad timing. The commander was too busy and overworked to deal with parental bonding.

Nodding to himself, Seifer shifted forward and stood straight. Only willing to wake Leonhart up because too long of a nap would make it impossible to send the man to bed later on, he moved around to the other side of the couch. Crouching low, he gently shook a narrow shoulder while his audience watched avidly. A disturbed cat retreated from the warmth of the commander's chest. Beneath his hand, his rival stirred slightly.

Unfurling, Squall shifted unto his back. A small sound of protest escaped slightly part lips.

Smiling secretively, Seifer concluded that while it had been difficult to finally goad the brunet into resting, it was equally as challenging to rouse the man. There was simply no winning.

Having been woken, Squall arched against the cushions as his body slowly agreed to move again.

Seifer was treated to the sight of the red mark upon that slender throat. Grinning, he leaned forward. Placing his mouth against the sleeping boy's ear, he blew hot air.

Eyes opening widely, Squall jerked awake. Sitting upright, he held a hand to his ear while glaring at the ex-knight accusingly.

Still grinning, Seifer watched in amusement as those foggy eyes attempted to glare. The effect was lost completely. Leonhart had once again taken on the appearance of someone who had just stumbled out of bed after having a quickie. "Rise and shine cupcake," he greeted. "Your dad's made a few changes to dinner plans."

Groaning, Squall lowered his head and cradled it in his hands. "What does Laguna want now?" he asked, not even registering that there were guests.

"Not much, just his favorite kid's home cooking," the blond informed with mock enthusiasm.

"What time will he get here?" Squall asked, stifling a yawn.

"Tilmitt and the cowboy are estimating it to be around a half hour from now." Seifer continued to grin as Leonhart finally took notice of the other two with mild surprise. Not relinquishing his rival's attention, he commented, "Don't I get a good morning kiss?"

Not missing a beat, Squall stated flatly, "It's not morning."

Giving the messy haired commander an expectant look, Seifer pressed, "Does that mean I'll get one tomorrow morning?"

Ignoring the blond's comment, Squall slid from his pace, brushing past the ex-knight as he stood slowly. He was surprised by the renewed focus his mind had and how his body was no longer exhausted, though a bit sluggish after just waking up. He would never admit that he felt refreshed, but he was still content.

"We brought over some stuff for you to use," Selphie said, pointedly letting the commander know there were others in the room. Obvious as it may have been when she and Irvine were standing in Squall's line of sight, it felt as though both gunblade specialists hadn't taken notice.

Giving a faint nod of acknowledgment, Squall walked towards the kitchen. Along the way, he flipped on the living room lights. "I assume you two are also staying for dinner," he commented.

Tipping his hat, Irvine drawled, "Thank you kindly."

"Yay!" Selphie exclaimed merrily.

Watching the brunet walk away, Seifer frowned. Having expected a bit more arguing on the topic of dinner, he was confused by the stubborn man's easy acceptance. It dawned on him a moment later that the commander might welcome the chance to escape a private dinner session with his estranged father. Not wanting to be ignored, he followed.

Content with being invited to dinner regardless of having expected it, Selphie bounced over to the couch and plopped down. Swinging her feet, she looked from one side to the next. Her eyes finally landed on the remote, which had been in front of her the whole time. Flipping the TV on, she called out, "There's a really good show on right now. It's a behind the scenes special on Dollet's winter festival from last year!"

Chuckling Irvine replied, "That's nice babe. Get out your notepad and pen."

Seifer wondered how the messenger girl would deal with having only news channels to watch.

"Hey babe, are sure you should be doing that?" came a slightly nervous voice.

Hearing the cowboy's unsettled tone, Seifer turned away from watching Squall set all the ingredients on a different counter. What he saw gave him hope. Tilmitt was playing with a bunch of wires that had been discretely run along the floor. "Go for it Tilmitt," he said encouragingly, hoping that whatever she did allowed him to watch anything other than the fricking news.

"I'm on it!" the young pilot cheered, ignoring Irvine's comment and welcoming Seifer's.

Just in case he might need to remember what the messenger girl was doing later on, Seifer moved closer to study the girl's work.

"Don't break anything," Squall said sternly from within the kitchen.

Preparing to cook, Squall worked in silence. Irvine and Selphie had brought over far more ingredients than needed, which was something he thought they might have done on purpose. From the four boxes of spaghetti noodles and pound of bacon, he got the impression that they might want spaghetti with meat sauce again.

The first time the small group of childhood friends had eaten together had been at a private celebration dinner. It had been a week after Ultimecia's defeat. Rinoa had been bragging about being able to have the commander cook dinner for her whenever she wanted. Naturally, the subject of food had caught Zell's interest, which had resulted in a challenge for Squall to make a dish better than what could be produced in the cafeteria. Thus, the gang had decided the challenge would serve nicely as a victory dinner. Squall had been resigned to making spaghetti with meat sauce, since it had been Rinoa's favorite dish. From that night on, he'd been wrangled in to making everyone dinner on several occasions.

Having made the same dish more times than he could count, it was a process requiring very little thought. From the cupboards he grabbed a large pot for the noodles, a saucepan for the sauce, and a skillet to crisp the bacon.

Setting the pans down on the stovetop with a clang, he walked to the fridge. Next to the gleaming metal icebox, a black apron hung discreetly on the wall. Initially, he had been embarrassed to receive it as a gift from Rinoa. Yet, his messy cooking habits had proved the garment's worth and he used her gift habitually. He smiled as he wound the thin strings about his waist, picturing the raven-haired sorceress' pleased expression when he had first agreed to wear it.

Scrubbing his hands, Squall set to work. He figured that Kiros would probably be joining them, and if not, Laguna could eat nearly as much as Zell.

A joyous cry of victory sounded from the living room, informing Squall that Selphie had been successful and that his television would not be broken. Petty bickering soon followed the pilot's cheering. Between Selphie's want to watch the show on the winter festival and Seifer's want to check out what games Galbadia had going, there was a vying for control. Squall grinned to himself as he predicted the outcome. Selphie was certain to win.

Sure enough, a cry of pain from the overly dramatic ex-knight sounded from the other room. Selphie had apparently resorted to violence.

He couldn't help but chuckle at this. While chopping up the onions, he halted in his actions. He suddenly felt as though a piercing gaze were upon him. Turning his head, he looked over at the opening in the wall above the counter top beside the stove. On the other side of the counter, sitting on one of the stools, Irvine was watching him intently.

Focusing back on the task at hand, he began chopping again. Though, it was hard to ignore the sharpshooter's intense staring. For no good reason, he was beginning to feel extremely self-conscious.

Picking up a wooden spoon, he stirred the crisping bacon bits up. Again, those amethyst eyes followed his movement. It was bad enough having reporters stare at him and snap pictures all the time. He didn't need it from his friends.

Eventually he became too agitated and finally asked, "Something the matter?" He made his voice seem cold, expressing his dislike at being stared at.

Seifer entered the kitchen at that moment, moving to stand near the window. He nearly tripped over his own feet at the sight of the commander. All that he could see was the brunet's backside, but even that was a fairly _pleasing_ sight at the moment. The black undershirt hugged the man's slender torso, showing the toned curves of the fighter's back. While baggy pants did little to justly display the famous ass that had its own following, the apron strings wound around a trim waist twice, defining the attractive curve of slim hips.

Silently cursing his train of thought, Seifer tore his eyes away from lecherously running over his rival's body and feigned interest in the stormy weather outside. With Tilmitt hogging the TV, there was little for him to do other than watch his rival cook. It was oddly entertaining to simply watch the commander, since it wasn't often staring at the moody brunet was permitted.

"Commercial," came Selphie's singsong voice, her skipping steps sounding before she slid into place next to Irvine. Not a moment after she had sat down did she exclaimed incredulously, "Squall! Is that a hickey?"

No sooner had the words left the young woman's mouth than a knife clattered to the counter top. Squall froze, going completely rigid and fumbling his grip on the knife. Horror stricken, he realized why Irvine had been staring at him. Closing his eyes with a groan he wracked his brain for some plausible excuse.

Without waiting for confirmation, Irvine asked in a deadly serious tone, "Who gave it to you?" Respect for privacy was of little relevance to him at the moment. He had felt a hot surge of jealousy the moment he had spotted the red mark, knowing immediately what it was.

Before the commander could utter a response, Seifer thought it'd be fun to further humiliate the brunet.

Stepping up behind the younger man, pressing closely, Seifer wrapped his arms around a slime waist and gave a firm squeeze as though smitten and possessive. Lecherously, he grinned at the two SeeDs sitting on the other side of the counter. "I gave it to him of course," he stated proudly and smugly. Playing with fire and knowing it, he could not help but push until he had gone too far. Bowing his head, he nuzzled a slender neck, making to give another mark nearby the first one.

"Seifer," Squall growled, dangerously low.

The blond could feel the vibrations of his spoken name as his lips danced across smooth pale skin. "Hmm?" he hummed in question, keeping his eyes trained on hands dangerously close to a rather sharp knife.

"Get the hell off me," the fighter growled threateningly, hand slowly creeping for the dropped knife.

Darting his tongue out, he licked along Squall's beating pulse, feeling the erratic and harsh pumping of blood. This time he was certain the shiver, which he felt wrack through the slender body that was tightly pressed against his own, was just that. It was definitely a shiver, and not a struggle to get free.

Squall could no longer remain idle and try to ignore the blond's actions, which was what he had spent most of his life practicing. Even though he knew that any reaction would only amuse the annoying man, he could not be pushed any further.

Seeing the glinting of light upon metal, Seifer pulled back and ducked as swiftly as possible. The air above was sliced as the knife cut through it. If he had not been blessed with sharp reflexives, he would have sported a gushing jugular. It probably had not the smartest thing to have done, teasing the little lion in such a manner when sharp objects were nearby. Fearing that Squall might retrieve Lionheart to finish the job, he laughed good-naturedly and diffused any doubt in the spectators' minds. "That's pretty much what happened the first time," he informed.

With white knuckles, Squall gripped the knife impossibly tight. Teeth clenching, he stared furiously at Seifer. He humored the thought of retrieving Lionheart to finish the job, but the knock at the door broke the tense moment, saving the blond from a bloody death. Setting the knife down, he angrily stalked from the kitchen.

Smiling inwardly, Seifer wondered just what more he might be able to get away with. Leonhart's reactions were the best. He loved teasing the indifferent man. Giving an innocent shrug, he decided he'd have to make a game of it all. If he had known sexually assaulting the brunet caused such responses, he would have done it years ago.

Stirring, Seifer took notice of the two gawkers. Tilmitt was staring at the empty space where Leonhart had been standing, a gentle blush on her cheeks. The cowboy was looking directly at him though. There seemed anger in those violet eyes. Staring right back at the gunman, Seifer searched for the other emotion he was detecting. It took him a moment, but once he recognized it, he felt like staggering back with surprise. Kinneas was jealous, totally and completely _jealous_.

Smirking, Seifer winked at the man, head tilting up in challenge. Those purple eyes widened in a similar manner as the girl beside him.

While jade and violet eyes fought in a silent battle, the happy voice of President Loire sounded from the living room, "I loved Dollet's festival!"

Laguna's apparent shared interest in winter celebrations was enough to distract Selphie, as she bound away to watch her program again.

Sulking, Squall reentered the kitchen, glaring at Seifer. The clash between the Irvine and the returned knight went totally unnoticed as he went about cooking again. Brooding, he kept his back to Seifer. He was royally pissed about the blond's irresponsible actions.

While Irvine kept his eyes trained on Seifer, he asked with as much of an even tone as he could manage, "Did Seifer really give that to you?"

Before Squall answered, Seifer smiled broadly.

Not stopping his movements while testing the pasta, Squall answered as though it should have been obvious, "Yeah"

Although the commander still seemed about to explain further, Irvine couldn't help the pitfall in his stomach at such a confession. His eyes left the cocky bastard of a knight and looked disbelievingly at the brunet.

Explaining further, Squall put the situation into context, "He did it so I would have to wear my SeeD uniform, with the high collar and all."

In the background Laguna and Selphie could be heard chatting excitedly. "I always wondered how they got that to stay up there," exclaimed one, "Oh, I bet I can do that for Balamb's festival," came another.

The lanky form of Kiros filled the entryway. "Who died?" he asked sarcastically, glancing from face to face.

"Dinner will be ready soon," Squall said.

"Smells good. I'm surprised you can cook," the dark skinned man commented.

"Nnh," Squall responded halfheartedly.

The brunet's response was sufficient enough considering the silence that was generally given in answer most of the time. Backing out of the room, he joined Laguna.

Frowning, it suddenly occurred to Seifer that he'd known Squall for most of his life, and yet the sulking man's ability to cook was new to him. "Where did you learn to cook?" he asked curiously.

Shrugging his shoulders, Squall mumbled, "Dunno"

"How can you not know?" Seifer prodded, wondering when the grudge holding boy would forgive him.

Turning the heat on the saucepan down, Squall stirred it and gave another small shrug. "The guardian forces do that. I suppose, Ellone must have taught me or something."

Scoffing, Seifer commented, "Or you read every cook book you could get your hands on in the library."

Squall was only half listening to what was being spoken, the other half of his focus spent trying decide the best way to act around his father. Giving a shake of his head, he answered Seifer, "The library doesn't have cook books." Then as a side note meant more for his own ears he said, "They don't have much of anything in there."

"Yeah, you would know. You've read every book in that place," Irvine joked, still eyeing Seifer uneasily.

Coughing mildly, Seifer couldn't help but picture his previous images of the commander. Swallowing hard, he asked the brunet, "I don't suppose you chew on your pens, do you?"

Turning around, Squall looked at the blond as though the man had two heads.

Chuckling, Irvine poked fun at Squall, "Looks like Quistis has been telling everyone to watch out for your little habit."

Frowning, Squall turned back the stove.

This was all Seifer could take. It had been bad enough to have the damn daydreams in the first place, but to learn that his little fantasies had actual occurred in some form or another, it sent him over the edge. He would never get to sleep that, not if he had the image of Squall sucking on pens in his mind.

Striding from the room, Seifer left a confused cowboy and preoccupied Squall.

TBC… please review!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Wet Dreams

Dinner was a rather uncomfortable affair. Squall's apartment was not equipped for having company, but the President had been dead set on eating in the privacy of his son's quarters. Gathered around the short rectangular table in front of couch, everyone sat and ate.

For the most part Selphie talked with Laguna about the upcoming winter festival. Naturally, Laguna planned another trip to Balamb Garden in order to spend the holiday with his son and see all the decorations and activities. Squall remained silent for the most part, shuffling his food around his plate. Kiros was nearly as silent as Squall, which was apparently not so unusual for the presidential advisor. Irvine kept sending Seifer death glares, for which Selphie continually punched him in the arm.

The only reason Squall didn't jab his fork into the back of Seifer's hand each time he had the chance was because the blond had shown surprising consideration and grabbed a hoodie for him to wear. Thankfully, even though it was the ex-knight's hoodie, it covered his neck up and he didn't have to worry about any explanations. He suspected Kiros had already taken notice, but the advisor seemed wholly uninterested.

There was a very peculiar exchange between the commander and the ex-knight. Every time Squall ventured a small bite of food, Seifer's hand would casually ruffle the brunet's wayward hair. The action was so casual that the group doubted either Squall or Seifer even knew it was happening, but that couldn't possibly have been the case.

Eventually the group called it a night. The President had to return to Esthar early the next morning. Before leaving, Laguna gave his son a very awkward hug. Everyone else seemed to grimace, knowing the commander was not the hugging type.

Apartment tidied, the dishwasher was running while Squall prepared to leave. Tying the laces on his boots, an opposed ex-knight futilely attempted to send him off to bed. With an explanation that he was simply running to his office to grab a few files, Seifer argued a bit more before making a compromise. Five minutes in the office and not a second more.

Arms loaded with stacks of files, Squall returned to his apartment. The student evaluation reports needed to be reviewed and he was determined to get it done. In his bedroom, he set the files atop an already cluttered workspace.

Squall sat at the desk in his bedroom. Hunched over the first of many evaluations, he grumbled his discontent when the ex-knight's voice interrupted his concentration. The overbearing nanny demanded to know what he was up to. Lying, he promised that he was sleeping like a good boy.

Hours later, sometime after midnight, Seifer barged into Leonhart's room to find the brunet face down on his desk. Angered, he cursed silently while moving the boy to the bed. Assured that the stubborn commander was actually sleeping, he finally turned in for the night as well.

--

The storm outside was still in full fury. The rain beat harshly against the windowpane in Seifer's room. Even with blinds drawn, the lightening flashed brightly. Despite such persistent background noises, it was an oddly calm setting to fall asleep in.

The entire day had been a radical change of pace for him. It was difficult to say how he felt about it. Soon he and Leonhart could have a good fight together. It would just be a few weeks or so before the brunet would be returned to the same healthy state that he remembered. All in all, it was nice being back. There were a few unexpected feelings he could do without, but distressing sexual tension aside, he felt confident his life would be far more interesting.

Mind swimming with the day's hectic events, he smirked at the prospect of what would come tomorrow. He hadn't imagined that being Leonhart's bodyguard would stipulate ordering the tough boy around. He couldn't believe he was getting paid to have fun. It was almost as good as getting paid to fight, but since he had become a knight, he knew no one would hire him as a mercenary.

Content with his first day back, Seifer drifted off to sleep.

--

A particularly loud clap of thunder woke Seifer, or so he thought. His green eyes opened in annoyance. It was still dark and the raging state of the storm informed him that he couldn't have fallen asleep for very long.

Groaning, he turned over in bed and made to go back to sleep. It was a startling discovery that he was not alone in the confines of the bedding. Beneath the sheets, a warm body was curled up beside him.

Sitting upright, he threw the covers back. Sleeping soundly was an unaware Leonhart, outrageously dressed in what he recognized as one of his t-shirts and a skimpy pair of boxer shorts. Mouth gaping, he tried to process the imagery. His shirt was far too big for the brunet's slim body, leaving a smooth shoulder exposed as the collar draped down on one side.

"Squall?" Seifer asked incredulously.

Bleary eyed, the pale commander came to while rubbing sleepy eyes childishly. "What's the matter?" he whispered.

Bewildered, Seifer simply stared for an unconscionable moment as an inappropriate heat stirred in his loins. "Why are you in my bed, and wearing my shirt?" he questioned tightly.

"The thunder was so loud, so I came here. Lay back down," the brunet offered in excuse.

A delicate hand reached out and tugged Seifer's shirt until he hesitantly lay back down. Shifting close, the commander actually snuggled against him. Tensing immediately, he exclaimed, "Squall!"

"Nnh," the brunet replied against his neck. "Sleep," was the one worded command in a puff of warm breath.

A pleasant shiver danced along Seifer's spine. He didn't understand at all, but he was beginning to think that it didn't matter. Slowly, he relaxed and even draped an arm around the form huddled against him. Squall made a soft noise of approval at this, which in turn caused the heat centered near his groin to increase. It suddenly felt stifling hot. With less hesitancy, he wrapped his arms round his new bolster and squeezed gently.

Not daring to touch the younger man in any overtly sexual fashion, Seifer found himself the receiver of such attention instead. Soft lips were suddenly kissing along his throat. Unsure how to respond, he trailed his hands along a firm back, exploring curves and touching the brunet like he had never done before. Just as he felt the slick warmth of a tongue against his collarbone, his hands ventured beneath the baggy shirt that Squall had apparently borrowed. Higher and higher, his coarse palm smoothed over soft skin. Reaching around front, his fingers brushed over a hard nub, earning a small moan from the sensual man kissing his neck. Taking a sensitive nipple in his fingers, he rolled it. He could feel himself growing hard.

"Seifer," Squall called, arching into his touch.

"Squall," Seifer breathed out, so confused about what was happening. "What is this?" Squall's wanton actions were pushing him toward the edge. He wouldn't be able to keep his hands off his responsive rival if he became any more aroused.

The smaller man shifted, drawing closer along his body. Seifer gasped at the thrilling feel of fingers brushing through his hair. Staring into dark eyes that seemed more blue than usual, Seifer nearly missed what the brunet said.

"I want you," the commander murmur, pout lips forming each syllable carefully.

Seifer had reached a breaking point. He didn't care what had brought on such behavior. He only cared that he was highly aroused and growing more hard at each thought of a willing Squall in his bed. Surging forward, he pinned the brunet beneath him. He groaned as the other's legs spread and let him sink closer. His mind was clouded as the boy gave a small buck and pressed against his now straining cock.

"Shit," Seifer growled, knowing he shouldn't continue, but unable to force himself to stop.

Another small buck and Seifer was done for. There was no way he was leaving Squall without a good fuck now. Leaning in, he captured those tantalizingly pout lips. They were so soft and warm, and readily parted in invitation. Unable to restrain the sudden lust he felt, his tongue plunged deeply. He tasted his rival's mouth with his tongue and felt supple flesh with gruff hands. It was impossibly pleasing. He crushed pliant lips, bruising them as he drew their kiss out for breathless minutes. It was such a sweet taste. He couldn't get enough of it. Eventually, when he thought the brunet might pass out from lack of air, he pulled back. Looking back down he saw half lidded eyes and crimson lips that were slick and swollen. A small trail of saliva ran down the corner of that luscious mouth.

Gulping, Seifer found himself wanting to do it again. Running a thumb across swollen lips, he felt them. Before he could pull his hand away though, a pink tongue darted out and drew his thumb into wet heat.

Seifer stared in awe as Squall sucked on his thumb. Next, the brunet grasped his hand and directed his index and middle finger inward instead. Making quite the display of sucking and licking, Squall eventually released the hand and gazed into dazed green eyes.

"Not enough, I want more," the brunet said, reaching a hand down and stroking Seifer's already leaking length through the material of cotton pants.

Seifer's breath hitched as he realized what Squall wanted. Unable to deny his body any pleasure at that point, he allowed his rival to roll them over. Slowly, the seductive lion slid down his body, tugging at his drawstring pants. He hissed as a warm hand snaked around his length and freed it from its confines. His eyes were trained intently on every movement Squall made.

A pink tongue hungrily licked the head of his cock, lapping away while delicate fingers surrounded the shaft. The combination of long smooth licks and short lapping ones wrought many pleasured groans from the blond. That devilish tongue toyed with the head of his manhood and ran a wet trail along the underside from the base to the tip.

Seifer was gripping the sheets with white knuckles. He couldn't fully comprehend anything other than the mind blowing sensations of having Squall greedily giving him a blowjob. Once his straining manhood was fully erect and throbbing for release, the sly commander slowly took a mouthful. Groaning, Seifer released the sheets and gripped silky brown hair.

Seifer watched with mild fascination, as his straining member was swallowed inch by well-endowed inch. It seemed impossible that his rival could fit so much in that sweetly tasting mouth, but he was beyond content and would not question anything. All coherent thought fled him as a Squall began to suck him as a wet tongue gyrating against the underside of his weeping penis. The sensitive tip rubbed the back of the brunet's throat, promptly swallowed repeatedly. He groaned loudly as the boy bobbed up and down, pausing to swallow leaking precum every so often. Hips bucking, he sought to thrust into Squall's mouth, but his rival restrained him.

When Seifer felt near orgasm, the brunet pulled off until only the mushroomed head of his cock was surrounded by wet heat. A tongue played with the sensitive slit, causing him to see spots. The pace suddenly picked up and his length was swallowed again, sucked hard as the tip was swallowed over and over. Shuddering, his cock pulsed in warning before ejaculating into his rival's mouth.

Eyes screwed shut, Seifer arched while the brunet continued to swallow each spurting wave that shot from him.

When it was over, Seifer rest for a long moment. Cracking an eye open, he looked down at a panting Squall, who had cum trailing down a finely structured chin. Seeming not to care, the reticent brunet leaned down again and began to lick his softened length clean. Not knowing what came next, he opened his arms and gestured for Squall to lie against him.

Instead of complying, the brunet shook his head and leaned back.

Tilting his head in question, Seifer waited for Squall to say something.

With his legs folded beneath him, Squall lifted the baggy shirt and pulled the boxers down to expose his own aching erection. Looking Seifer in the eye, he said, "Please… I want you inside of me. Make me come with you inside," he begged.

Eyes widening, Seifer could feel himself growing hard again. How could he possibly deny such a request? Sitting up, he reached forward to grab Squall.

--

Seifer's eyes opened groggily as a loud alarm buzzer went off on the nightstand beside him.

Looking around dazedly, the embarrassing truth set in. With no warm body beside him and the feel of sticky release beneath the covers, it was clear what had happened. Grumbling in anger and frustration, Seifer got out of bed. He hadn't had a wet dream like that since he had first started puberty. He hadn't thought it possibly to actually orgasm from a dream.

Still early, he hopped in the shower and did his best to push all images of his dream to the back of his mind. He simply couldn't deal with he possible meaning of it all.

Emerging from the steam filled room, he towel dried his hair as he walked out. Stopping abruptly, he dropped the towel to hang around his shoulders. Seifer watched as Squall froze in the middle of pulling his boots on near the entryway.

Squall went rigid, looking up at the wet haired knight in surprise. His reaction was self-incriminating, making it clear that he knew he was doing something he shouldn't.

"Where are you going?" Seifer asked accusingly.

"To my office. I have a job to do," Squall supplied, pulling the other boot on.

"No, Quistis can handle things for a little while longer," the blond countered.

"I'm going," the stubborn brunet stated firmly. Standing up, he grabbed the box he'd placed all the files in. Not waiting any longer, Squall left.

An angry blond grit his teeth. He no longer had to worry about having flash backs from his dream. The Squall who'd sucked him off and the Squall who'd just blown him off were two totally different people. Hastily, he tossed the towel aside, ran for Hyperion and slipped his boots on to follow.

--

Sparks flew as the gleaming blades clashed fiercely, but as soon as the bright glints sprayed off they were gone. Swift movements and fast reflexes kept the two fighters from killing one another.

Seifer estimated it to be another ten minutes before the commander wore down.

There was pivotal point in battle when stamina waned and the need to end the fight forced the fighters to dodge less and exert great amounts of energy in stronger attacks.

This was their game. These were their battles.

Blood pumping, adrenaline long gone, Seifer felt sweat trickle down his temple. It was surprising, to say the least, that the stubborn brunet had lasted so long. Then again, he really hadn't expected any less. He had every confidence in his victory. Leonhart had never been able to match him in sheer physical strength and in the commander's weakened state there was no doubt he would be victor.

In a stand still, their weapons locked as they fought for dominance. Whoever was forced back first would surely be the loser. Squall was the first to remove one hand from the hilt and place it on the back of his blade to push forward in a greater effort. This caused Seifer to take a small bracing step back. The blond followed set a bracing hand up as well and easily regained the ground he lost.

Both fighters were panting heavily, glaring at each other, struggling to keep it up. As Squall leaned his head forward, the neon glow of Lionheart illuminated his face.

Seifer was taken aback at the surreal silver coloring that consumed his opponent's eyes. It was almost mesmerizing. Smirking, he kept his green eyes trained to the brightly lit pair before him. His smirk oozed confidence. Arrogantly, he gloated over a victory that hadn't even happened yet.

Reading the knight's silent proclamation, Squall quirked an eyebrow. As much as he enjoyed having a good training session, this was not practice. The last couple of days had been full of people pushing him around and making him bend to their will. He'd had enough. There was some strength left in him yet. If Seifer were going to claim victory, the taller man would be doing it while standing over his unconscious body.

Physically incapable of overpowering the cocky blond, Squall needed a diversion. Distracting the older boy for even a fraction of a second would work. He needed it fast too, his body was almost shaking with the strain he was putting it through. Seifer showed no signs of tiring any time soon, which was the blessing of having such a broad frame of solid muscle. He had not been born with such a figure and his unmatchable speed was of little help at the moment.

Thinking back on all he'd learned, Squall rested on the idea of playing with Seifer's mind. The best distractions were often mental. There was little leverage he had on the blond as far as taunting was concerned. Quistis had actually been the instructor to tutor him with this very matter. It was easy to draw the opponent's attention away with even the smallest of gestures, if the gesture was outrageously out of character. Naturally such a distraction only worked if the fighters knew each other.

It might have been a dirty move, but it was within acceptable standards for Squall. At least it was better than casting a spell when they'd agreed upon blades only, like a certain blond had done before. He would consider it pay back.

Grunting as Seifer pushed harder, Squall felt his arms quiver. Gritting his teeth, he decided to make a move.

Having pushed forward with even more strength, Seifer was mildly impressed that the smaller brunet was able to counter him. He wouldn't have thought it possible for such a slender body to have so much strength left. Then again, a common man could not have defeated the most powerful sorceress of all times and walked away afterwards.

For a moment silvery-blue eyes seemed lost in thought, but soon sharpened with such fierce determination that Seifer was momentarily dumbfounded. He couldn't look away from those mesmerizing eyes. When bowed lips turned upwards, his smirk fell as he scrambled to register what he was seeing. It was impossible that Squall was smiling, but his eyes wouldn't show him the right image no matter how much he stared. Squall was smiling at him, almost sweetly, as though they were both six years old again and he had just given the boy his ice cream. Still, even if his eyes weren't working right, he refused to blink. Smiling lips parted and a sultry voice spoke, sending shivers along his spine.

Squall had only been smiling for a few seconds and he already felt like his facial muscles were going to spasm. It didn't seem to be working. The blond hadn't even blinked. Diversions were not his usual tactic. Desperate, he resorted to mimicking his instructor like some inexperienced cadet. Quistis had demonstrated various ways of throwing an opponent off guard simply by speaking. "I want you," he spoke softly, his words wildly out of place with the current situation.

Immediately, Squall felt an easing of pressure. Swiftly stepping back, he let whatever pressure Seifer was still applying swing Hyperion down on him. With Lionheart still blocking, he crouched low and spun beneath the arc of the blond's sword. Using all the strength he had left, Squall elbowed the tall man in the stomach. He was careful to place the blow in just the right spot. He didn't want to break the man's ribs.

With the wind effectively knocked out of the cocky fighter, Squall moved quickly again. Grabbing the other's right wrist, he twisted harshly, forcing Hyperion to the ground. Keeping his painful hold on that same wrist, he turned his back to Seifer and used his momentum to flip the larger body over. Though his rival was slightly disoriented, he didn't waste any time. He barely had time to pin the blond to the ground and press Lionheart to that tanned throat.

Coughing a bit, Seifer hissed in anger. His mind wasn't working right. His body had tried to respond, but the damn brunet was so fast it was impossible to keep up when his brain wasn't thinking clearly. Even as he felt the light weight of his rival straddling him, he was unable to throw him off before the sharp metal was pressed dangerously to his neck. In fact the only thing he seemed able to do was stumble in confusion over the commander's words.

Still panting, Seifer breathed out in a dubious and perhaps subconscious hopeful tone, "You…. _want _me?" Instead of staring up at no particular point on the high ceiling of the training center, he looked into stormy blue eyes, half expecting to see the deep blue color from his dreams. Squall in the eye again.

"Yeah," Squall returned, careful not to let his weakening limbs fall forth onto the blade at Seifer's throat. "I want you…. to let me go to my goddamn office!" he growled.

And there it was, the entire reason for the dual in the first place. Squall had attempted to go to his office for the day. Seifer had refused to let the commander work. Both being so equally stubborn, they decided a dual would resolve the matter. At first, Seifer had been more than opposed to the idea of fighting Squall in what he considered a weakened state. The blond had thought it an unfair advantage for him to be healthy and fed and rested, whereas Squall still looked like a strong breeze would do him in.

When Squall finished speaking the rest of that sentence, Seifer had to wonder whether the brunet's tone had been the same. Initially, that soft voice had sent a shiver through him and he perceived it to be sultry and inviting. Now, that voice sounded beyond angry. He didn't know how much of it was Squall and how much of it had been his damn subconscious misinterpreting it all.

Meaning clear, Seifer banished all thoughts of his dream. There was one problem however. Leonhart had fairly claimed victory by holding him in a checkmate for a prolonged moment, but he could see that slender frame wavering. The young commander looked ready to collapse.

Squall's pale skin was ghostly white and sweat trickled down his temple in rivulets. Some of his chocolate bangs were matted to his forehead, while the rest hung limply as he leaned forward. Seifer was starting to catch his breath, while the Squall's chest still rose and fell in quick succession.

It didn't take long for reality to rush back to Seifer. Pinned in defeat, he was less than happy. The brunet had purposely distracted him. Though, he couldn't tell if the guile commander had deliberately played off of his suppressed emotions or just hit the mark on accident. It wasn't like he'd been conspicuous about any attraction. He had only played a few jokes that involved a little intimate touching. No, his rival couldn't possibly have known. Squally-boy was beyond oblivious when it came to that sort of stuff.

Slowly, Seifer raised a hand and pushed Lionheart away. The weapon gave way easily in Leonhart's slack grip. He could see the fog clouding those grey-blue eyes. The man had nothing left. It was far too early for them to be training like this. The brunet had a ways to go before regaining a clean bill of health.

"I could take you right now," Seifer stated, pointing out that even while he was the one on the ground, he could reverse the situation in a heartbeat.

Squeezing his eyes shut as they lost focus and the world before him went blurry, Squall tried to process the blond's words. He was bit preoccupied with not collapsing. "I won," he finally said, though his words cracked with a parched throat.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean-" Seifer began, but was cut off as the boy still on top of him shook his head in disagreement.

"The code," he spoke harshly. Between the two of them, they always upheld the honor and rules of battle. He had won, which meant he was allowed to go to his office since that was the pending issue.

"Hmm?" Seifer replied, green eyes narrowing as a devilish smirk graced his face.

Squall's gloved hand still grasped his weapon, holding the heavy blade off the ground. Dropping Lionheart, it hit packed dirt with a thud. His vision went hazy again and his balance was thrown off as he swayed forward. Instinctively, he braced himself upright by placing his hands against Seifer's shoulders. If he had more strength, he would have raged outwardly at the pathetic state he was in. Instead, he spoke feebly again, hating the way his voice sounded more like a plea, "Don't push me around."

At the sound of Lionheart being released to the ground, Seifer's eyes softened and he regretted trying to push the commander when the weary boy was so close to the edge already. He had wanted to irritate the brunet, not break him. He watched in concern as the smaller man swayed slightly. But his concern was redirected when the boy's precarious positioning took effect. The brunet's butt rubbed against a rather touch sensitive region. Clenching his teeth, he willed his body not to react, promising that he would find a beautiful girl as soon as possible.

Seifer's situation wasn't made any better when he tried to focus his attention to someplace more north bound. Looking at his rival's face, he saw the brunet had bright eyes scrunched shut and plush lips parted in a soft pant. All that heavy breathing had brought a faint blush to pale cheeks. Though his brain knew it was a look of overexertion and complete exhaustion, another part of him connected the image with someone in the middle of having sex.

Gulping, Seifer averted his eyes quickly before he found himself unable to keep his thoughts from poking the brunet in the ass. Desperate to resolve the conflict, he conceded, "Okay, we'll go to the office."

Grey-blue eyes shot open and a small, pleased smirk played across Squall's face. He had won and gotten his way. That was all he had wanted. With his mission accomplished, he fell forward against the blond and decided that maybe he would just have to wait until later to finish reading the evaluation reports on the new recruits.

Inhaling steadily to calm down, Seifer sat up. The limp body rose with him. Of all the many things he had expected upon returning to Balamb Garden, one of them was not to find himself harboring some insane attraction to the man in his arms. Before Squall could fall away, he snaked an arm around a lean torso and held the commander in place.

Sighing in frustration, he ran a hand through his hair. He was not attracted to Leonhart. Men did not turn him on. Least of all, stubborn and moody brats like this one. It was a fluke. His body and thoughts were betraying him only because Squall was the only warm body nearby. It could have been anybody.

Having made his conclusions, Seifer stood up with the commander cradled in his arms. Looking around, he wondered how he was going to carry their gunblades back.

"Need some help?" called an unfamiliar voice.

Turning around, Seifer eyed the newcomer suspiciously. A boy, fifteen at most, jogged towards him from the training center entrance. The kid must have been a new recruit. The new students were always too ignorant to know that no one of a lower level should be in there alone, especially with the new critters added. With short black hair, spiked in a similar though less gravity defying manner as Dincht, the boy slowed to a stop and waited in front of him. Dark brown eyes looked at him expectantly.

Seifer's gaze narrowed. He didn't like the idea of some stranger touching Hyperion and he knew Squall would loath the idea of anyone even thinking about touching Lionheart. It was either have the kid carry the weapons or hand Squall over. Though the new kid was young and considerably smaller than himself, Squall was fairly light, capable of being carried on the boy's back.

Eventually, Seifer decided he would rather interrogate the kid before accepting any help. "Who are you?"

Grinning sheepishly, the boy responded, "I'm Rui, Rui Valdez." There was a sharper accept to his words as he spoke normally. It was clear inflection straight from the streets of Dollet City.

"Uh-huh," Seifer miffed, not liking the easy manner this kid treated being in both the presence of himself and the commander. "What year are you?"

Dropping his grin, Rui replied, "First year. I just got here, not four days ago."

"What are you doing in here?" Seifer pressed, not caring that all these questions were hardly necessary for accepting a helping hand when he obviously needed it.

"Well, I thought I'd check this place out. I heard a lot about the center from the other guys. But then I saw you carrying him and I wondered if you needed help." His eyes scanned the person in the tall blond's arms. "Is that the commander?" he asked with alarmed concern.

"Yeah," Seifer said evenly, making his mind up and protectively angling his arms away from the boy. "Just grab those two blades," he ordered. Something rubbed him the wrong way. He didn't like this kid. Regardless of his likes or dislikes, he wasn't going to make two trips or wait around for Leonhart to wake up.

Eyeing the blond suspiciously, Rui tentatively retrieved the two impressive weapons from the ground. They were heavy together, but he managed with a bit of effort.

Seifer didn't wait for the kid. He was already walking for the exit, but listened as the boy jogged to catch up.

"Is he alright?" Rui asked, having concluded that the unconscious man was indeed Commander Leonhart.

"He's fine," Seifer said tersely. It was a private matter, no need for outsiders to butt in. Apparently, his tone did not dissuade the curious manner of the new recruit.

"Were you two fighting?" Rui asked with interest.

Not missing a stride Seifer spat sarcastically, "No, we were making passionate love."

There was silence from the kid who followed behind. After a moment, the raven-haired boy spoke again, "Then why is he out cold?"

Seifer did stop walking then, turning to stare at the ignorant newbie. Seeing true confusion in big brown eyes, he barked with laughter. Riding out his laughter, he turned and continued walking. "It's because I'm so damn good, he just couldn't take it and passed out," the blond remarked, amused at the ridiculous comments he could pass off as truth.

The walk was fairly short, made faster by the pace the ex-knight set. Seifer didn't need anyone else spotting an unconscious commander, because it could very well result unfavorably for him. Once outside Leonhart's door, he stopped and balanced the limp body so that he could key in the code. It wasn't easy, but he wasn't about to let the kid do it. He debated whether or not he should make young Rui wait out in the hall. In the end, he figured if Squall wasn't awake to throw a hissy fit, it didn't matter. He motioned for Rui to follow him in.

"Set those on the counter," Seifer instructed while he made his way to the couch. Gently setting Squall down, he stood back up and walked into the kitchen. Without any real gesture of gratitude, he called out, "Thanks for the help." His tone implied dismissal.

Seifer's new task was to find a washcloth. Sadly, it was only his second day in the apartment and his search produced no results. The bathroom was his next guess for where a washcloth would be. The bathroom was the third door along the wall in the living room, the first two being bedrooms. He quickly spotted what he was looking for. Wetting the cloth in the sink, he rung it out and walked back into the living room.

The scene Seifer found stopped him in his tracks. That impudent little newbie hadn't left and was currently kneeling before Squall's defenseless form. Worse yet, something he didn't need to understand to dislike, the boy had his hands boldly groping the commander's chest.

TBC… please review… there may be cookies in it for you…


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Garden's Newest Thief

"Hey!" Seifer yelled, red flashing before his eyes. "Get the hell away from him!" There seemed no need to tear the kid away and throw him across the room, since the boy jumped back and fell gracelessly to his ass.

"I'm sorry," Rui asserted.

"What the hell makes you think that you can touch your commander like that?" His mind twisted his words automatically. He was livid, and a very distant part of his brain recognized that some of his anger was the result of having witnessed someone else touching his rival.

Rui's jaw dropped as he fought to not freeze up in fear. The tall blond brute of man looked about a second away from snapping his body in two. "I-I," he stuttered.

Standing before the cowering kid, Seifer glared down. "Which garden did you come from that taught you it was okay to be so bold to any commanding officer?"

Flabbergasted, the dark haired boy responded to Seifer's questions in a pleading tone, "I'm not really a cadet. I'm sorry." His eyes squeezed shut in fearful apprehension.

Clenching his jaw, Seifer cursed at his own assuming manner. Here was this kid who looked harmless enough, but apparently posed at least some threat. Short of wanting to make the kid piss his pants, Seifer refrained from slamming him against the wall and conducting the painful interrogations he was prone to doing. "Who are you? Why were you at the training center?" Before the boy could answer, he reminded, "Lies will only make me angry and you don't want to be around me when I'm angry."

For a moment, Rui stared blankly and fearfully up at tall man. In a false front of courage, he wiped the dumb founded look of fear from his face. Knowing he needed to start running, he wasn't confident he could escape the imposing blond's grasp. Standing up, he faced off, barely managing to keep his legs steady. "I'd say you're already pretty angry," he mumbled to himself, loud enough for the other to hear.

Not straying from Leonhart's side, Seifer pressed, "Who the fuck are you?" This time he wanted a truthful answer.

"Rui Valdez, at your service," the raven-haired boy said with a bow, a small tremor revealing how truly frightened he felt. He never should have accepted the job. He was in a place full of mercenaries who liked to take blood baths. He would never see the outside world again. His short life was over.

Either the kid could lie really well or was actually telling the truth. Surprisingly, Seifer had a difficult time telling the difference, if there was any. Then again, he hadn't been studying the boy under the pretense that he was being lied to earlier, so he had probably not noticed the telltale signs. Humoring the idea that the boy's real name was 'Rui', he questioned, "Why are you here?"

"Not to be killed, so if you don't mind, I'll just leave." Rui took a step back.

Smirking, Seifer commented, "You're more of an idiot than I first thought if you think you can leave freely." His words were deathly calm and he employed his most intimidating glare.

Rui froze, going rigid. Staring into jade-green eyes, he feared he had chanced upon one of the most vicious mercenaries possible. He began to envision various ways the blond might torture him. Epson had made no mention of Ultimecia's knight being there, and he was almost certain the man before him was Seifer Almasy. Twenty thousand gil was not worth dying. "Please, I was hired. I didn't mean any harm."

Seifer had become so absorbed with being back that he had lost sight of an important objective. His reasons for being summoned back were not solely to boss the commander around, but to protect him. "I think we're going to have a long talk."

"Just talking?" Rui asked hopefully, praying the knight's idea of talking was like everyone else's and didn't involve that sword of his on the counter.

"Yeah, so sit your ass down," the blond ordered, motioning to the coffee table next to him.

Hoping to walk or even limp away with his life, Rui complied readily. For the right price he would do just about anything, but to keep his head attached to his neck he would have ratted his own mother out if he had one.

Seifer watched as the boy sat down nervously. For the first time he noticed a content cat sitting and staring at them on top of the table. Throughout that whole scene the feline had remained still, just swishing its tail back and forth while watching in amusement. Grumbling silently, he vowed that the next thing he fed the fur ball was going to be dog food.

Returning his focus to the deceitful brat, he concluded that the boy was no mastermind behind any insidious plot, just a pawn. Sitting down on the edge of the couch, Seifer remembered the damp washcloth in his hand and why he had it in the first place. Shifting, he turned towards the unaware brunet whose strained body was likely keeping that brain unconscious. He pressed the cold cloth to the Squall's forehead. Brushing damp bangs aside, he wiped along the brunet's temples gingerly.

"Uh…." Rui began to speak, blushing furiously as he recalled what the blond had told him caused the commander to pass out. While he knew the knight had only been sarcastic, as he watched the man gently wiping moisture from the commander's brow, he couldn't help but question whether the tall brute had really been joking.

Holding a hand up to silence the kid, Seifer demanded silence. He saw Squall's eyelids flutter. He kept swiping the cloth. They were both in need of hot shower, but that would have to wait. Setting the washcloth in his lap, he raised a hand to a pale cheek. Even after being still and unmoving for the past ten minutes, the younger man's skin felt like it was on fire.

"Hey," Seifer said, trying to make Squall come to.

Squall's eyes snapped open. "Shit," the commander cursed, quickly trying to sit up. A looming blond knight who pressed a hand to his chest and kept him down.

"Relax," Seifer directed. "There's plenty of time. It was too soon to fight like that. You have to rest," he explained, firmly holding the brunet down.

"Seifer," Squall whispered softly.

The blond had to lean in closer to hear.

"Don't make me kick your ass again," Squall finished, placing a hand over Seifer's and bending the fingers backwards.

Jerking his hand away, Seifer glared before hissing, "Stubborn prick." He rubbed his hand sorely.

A meek cough sounded.

Squall strained his tired muscles to sit up. Apparently the hours he managed to get in the training center each week weren't nearly enough. He actually relished the feel of sore muscles. He had missed their sparring sessions.

Looking beyond the ex-knight, who blocked most of his view, Squall saw a young teenager sitting on his coffee table, blushing furiously. The unfamiliar boy kept his gaze downcast, as though he was too embarrassed to look him in the eye. Now he knew why Seifer was trying to block his view. Shooting daggers he asked silently, 'What the hell is going on?' When Seifer gave an affronted look, acting hurt that Squall would accuse him of anything, Squall turned his attention elsewhere. The kid was still looking down. And Squall was still extremely confused.

"Look at me," Squall said calmly. Recognizing the nervous posture in the kid. He was not in the mood for any surprises that day. Then again, he usually never was.

Rui couldn't help but look up. Commander's Leonhart's voice was almost melodious. Regardless of feeling entrapped and embarrassment, he gazed steadily into powerful eyes. There had been a few instances where he'd seen pictures of the commander, but he generally didn't have the luxury of following world events at his own leisure. Despite looking dead tired, the older boy radiated quiet strength, but not the intimidating kind. He felt comforted, knowing he faced someone who wouldn't kill him slowly.

Once the young boy made eye contact, Squall waited a moment. He recognized the petrified stiffness in the unknown guest's posture, and hoped his lack of hostility would be of some help. "What is your name?" he asked evenly. Though he was none too happy to have some random person in his apartment, he knew Seifer was behind it all. He'd deal with the ex-knight later.

Responding quickly, Rui blurted out, "Rui Valdez."

It was then Seifer chose to give some insight into why Rui was there in the first place. Speaking into Squall's ear, he whispered, "The kid's got a few qualities that make him a good candidate for your stalker. I think he's working for him."

Keeping his face trained on Rui, Squall didn't react to the blond's words. Thinking to himself, realized it was the perfect opportunity to find information on his stalker without involving anyone else. "Valdez," he reiterated, vaguely recalling the name. "The same Valdez who pickpockets in Dollet?" It was a rhetorical question. If being a pickpocket were the kid's only crime, he wouldn't have known the name, but he generally didn't look too closely at anyone's wrap sheet considering the business he ran. Though he kept his face and tone impassive, inside he was only storing up more anger to let out on the blond later. Of all the people that the ex-knight could have brought back, it had been a thief. Coincidentally, he had been looking for someone with good thieving skills to help integrate the skill into the cadet's curriculum, but as headmaster, he didn't need to be buried in reports of stolen wallets.

Rui went rigid again. He realized he was relying on the kind nature of the commander without even knowing if the older boy had a kind nature to begin with. Those clear grey-blue eyes couldn't possibly belong to a bad person, but how was he to know for sure.

Squall gave a faint, reassuring smile. He was angry with Seifer, not the boy.

Dark brown eyes widened. Rui stared as the commander smiled at him. Unable to help himself, he felt relief overcome him all over again. Commander Leonhart was someone he could trust, he was certain.

Making a decision, Squall proposed, "We could use someone like you here. Have you ever considered becoming SeeD?" The kid was obviously not his stalker, but if there was some connection then he couldn't let the boy leave freely.

Seifer listened, his anger rising. Was Leonhart insane? Who invited the enemy to stick around? And why the hell was the pretty boy hero smiling like that? About to argue the commander's proposal, he was silenced when the brunet tugged his shirt. Glaring, he held his tongue. If he were any less interested in finding out more about the pervert stalking his rival, he would have forcibly put the man to sleep.

Rui didn't know how to respond. The idea was ludicrous and yet the commander was speaking as though he was hoping to enroll him that very day. "I hadn't considered it, sir."

"You might want to consider it now." If he were to interrogate the boy, he would learn everything he could about the person behind the scenes. For Rui to return unsuccessful after confessing, it was asking for punishment. He was willing to offer sanctuary for information.

As much as Rui tried to figure what the commander was trying to imply he couldn't sort it out.

Squall elaborated, "An entire garden full of trained mercenaries. It's more than a little troublesome to get in without welcome." He saw dawning understanding in the boy's dark eyes. "Among ourselves, we take care of our own." His meaning couldn't get much clearer.

"You mean, like, I'd have to or else…." he trailed off. Rui didn't know whether he liked the idea of getting up at the crack of dawn to run laps or go to class or whatever these people did that made them such good fighters. Then again, he couldn't return to Dollet after failing.

"No," Squall said evenly. "You wouldn't have to enroll as a student in order to gain protection. Though it might be nice to not have to worry about staying within these walls to be safe." Sighing, he refrained from pinching the bridge of his nose. "Who sent you?" he finally asked.

Unable to lie while looking into the commander's eyes, Rui mumbled. "Epson, just _Epson"_

"Tell me what you know about Epson," Squall pressed.

Glancing away, Rui considered his choices. He wasn't cut out for spying. He was in over his head. There was no going back. "I never actually met the guy. He said he'd give me twenty thousand gil for some pictures. That's it." he gave the commander a pleading look. Even he had standards. Taking pictures had seemed innocent enough, especially for the payment.

"You never met him, so how were you in contact?" Squall followed up.

Rui sighed, realizing the commander believed him. With his mendacious character, no one ever believed him even when he told the truth. "I heard a rumor about this job that had high money on the table. I've been looking to move up a little in the business and made a few calls. Once I got him on the line, we set up the terms and trade off."

--

Rui explained how he had only arrived the day before. Proper documentation and false identification had been provided. His job had been to slip in undetected, act like a normal cadet, find an opportunity to get close to the commander, and take pictures. He had no qualms in admitting he had little courage in the face of six foot two inch knights who had bad tempers. His lifetime of thievery had taught him to turn tail and run at the first sign of danger, and his skills as a con artist were not very sharp despite his promises to Epson about succeeding.

Eventually, Squall had heard enough from Rui to be satisfied. The young con artist had relaxed considerably, either from deciding it would be safe to reside in Balamb Garden or from forgetting what might happen upon returning to Dollet. The boy seemed less interested in the interrogation and more interested in petting a friendly Gabriel. Despite the pickpocket's track record, there was an air of youthful innocence about the fourteen year old.

The sun cast warm rays into the main flat just from the single window in the kitchen. Seifer sat beside Squall with his head resting back against the couch. He had kept silent, unable to ask a single question because the brunet seemed to know exactly when to glance his way with eyes that told him to be patient and hush. He had gotten up at one point to stow the gunblades away, but returned shortly after only to continue playing a mute.

Sinking back into the couch, Squall relaxed for a moment. Beside him, Seifer was sulking. Indulging the blond's wishes, he asked, "Is there anything you'd like to ask Seifer?"

"I've heard enough lies for one day, thanks," Seifer replied while crossing his arms.

Feeling assured that the knight couldn't hurt him as long as the commander was there, Rui mumbled, "Child."

Green eyes narrowed dangerously. It only took a smile or two and suddenly the brat thought the commander would stop him from wrapping his hands around that scrawny twerp's neck. "Thief," he shot back with distain.

"Brute!" Rui countered, standing to his feet. Commander Leonhart seemed like a nice enough person, which meant Ultimecia's knight was just particularly beastly.

Seifer stood, towering over the raven-haired boy like a very unfriendly giant.

Rui gulped, intimidated immensely. If the edge of the table hadn't been pressing into his calves he would have backed up.

Sighing, Squall stood up and walked away. "If you're going to fight, take it outside," he reprimanded as he stalked to the bathroom. He couldn't deal with childish bickering at the moment. His head felt heavy and he was freezing. It might have been his body cooling off after the fight, but he was nearly shivering.

In the bathroom, Squall turned the shower's faucet on. He needed a shower to warm up and wash off. Afterwards, he could deal with Seifer and Rui, if the boy were still breathing. His fortune was better than expected to have encountered Rui without alerting Quistis or the others. If at all possible, he would like to resolve the matter of his stalker without anyone else's help.

Biting his lip as he considered his new lead, he felt less hopeful than he had been when first learning that Rui had been hired to take pictures. A part of him felt compelled to inform his head instructor, knowing it was the sort of thing he was supposed to rely on her for, yet his first instinct was to keep it to himself. There was no certainty that Espon was his stalker. Perhaps he would speak with Quistis if he found out more, or perhaps not.

Releasing his abused lip, Squall realized an oversight. He couldn't revoke his invitation to Rui, but the boy's presence would necessitate an explanation. He couldn't think about it right then. His mind was a bit foggy. His fight with Seifer had been more taxing than he had originally thought. He still couldn't believe he had passed out, carried back by his rival no less.

Undressing, he stepped beneath the shower's spray, soothed by its warmth. Expression softening, he reflected on his recent spar. Ignoring the fact that he had shown his rival his weakest side, he was undeniably excited to think he could continue sparring with Seifer. A small part of him, a very tiny part, was glad the ex-knight was back.

Sighing, he shut his eyes to avoid the sting of the shampoo as the suds were washed from his hair. Why had Seifer come back? He was curious and confused by the man's reappearance. Had he become so weak that his rival was taking pity on him? Shaking his head, Squall refused to belief that was the case. Pity was one emotion Seifer never expressed, least of all towards him. He knew he shouldn't be giving the matter such intense consideration. He had more pressing issues to be thinking about. Rinoa was gone, and he had to find her. If he were truly someone blessed by Hyne, then finding Rinoa would have nothing to do with finding his stalker. Theoretically, being able to solve two problems with a single solution was efficient. Considering the field day the press would have over the matter, which would be made public if Rinoa had anything to say about it, it would be a disaster.

Not lingering in the shower any long than necessary, Squall shut the tap, the coldness he had felt before returning immediately. Shivering in his sopping state, he hastily dried himself off. Realizing he hadn't brought a change of clothes, he was about to leave the bathroom in naught but a towel when he remembered Rinoa's secret stash.

The raven-haired sorceress had a fetish for dressing him in what society considered fashionable clothing, but he had a stubborn tendency to refuse anything that he wouldn't have worn in battle. While he had only threatened to instruct the cadet's on laundry duty to dispose of all trendy garments that came from his shoot, Rinoa had taken him quite seriously and hidden pants and shirts in various places all over the apartment. He had actually found a belt in the freezer one time.

Glancing around the bathroom, he felt certain there was a whole wardrobe buried beneath the washcloths and towels in the linen closet. Sure enough, there was a bin on bottom shelf that he had never really taken notice of before. More than just a few items, there were carefully selected articles from ties to a ridiculous pair of socks that were decorated with lions. With a sigh, he grabbed what he needed. He selected at random a pair of dark blue jeans and teal colored long sleeve top.

While the jeans sagged around his waist, they didn't fall down. About to don the shirt, he was interrupted.

--

Watching the commander leave without a word, Rui was left with a feeling of abandonment and fear. Now that he was alone with the angry knight, he would surely be torn limb from limb. Gulping, he turned his attention to the tall blond in front of him. Meeting those narrowed green eyes, he glanced desperately at the closed door the commander had gone behind.

With Squall in the bathroom, Seifer felt he could ask a few questions of his own. "Why the hell were you groping him before?"

"Which answer won't get me killed?" Rui asked nervously, praying Commander Leonhart returned soon.

"The truth," Seifer growled while crossing his arms and staring down.

"I…" Rui began, knowing the frighteningly strong looking knight wasn't going to like the truth. "I was curious," he supplied, looking up with innocent brown eyes. He was going to die.

Enjoying the terrorizing effect he had on the boy, Seifer asked, "Curious about what?"

Biting his lip, Rui was afraid this particular matter would set the knight off. He didn't have much choice. Having the shame to blush while admitting his earlier thought process, he mumbled, "I couldn't tell if he was really a guy or not." He had always wondered whenever managing to see a picture or glimpse the older boy on the news. Everyone said the commander was a man, but Rui didn't think any man could look so pretty. His curiosity had gotten the best of him, blowing his cover.

The blond pulled a very confused face, trying his best to piece it all together properly. At length, when he understood the seriousness with which the boy spoke, he nearly doubled over with laughter. "You were feeling him up for breasts?" Shaking his head, he pointed out, "Just by looking at him you can tell he ain't got nothing under that shirt."

"Yeah, well, maybe he was hiding it," Rui countered, a little defensive now that the blond was being condescending. When the imposing knight just laughed at him more, he added, "I didn't think you looked like the gay type, so I figured you'd only have been doing the commander if he were a girl."

Rolling his eyes, Seifer valiantly refrained from wringing the kid's neck. "You know damn well we were fighting in there."

"Sure," Rui replied mockingly, his courage only a veneer. "Well you wouldn't be the first guy to wanna do him," he said with false casualness. He knew he had crossed the line, but his sharp tongue often spoke without consulting his mind first. While he knew Epson must have had some perverted fetish, he had never planned on sneaking into the commander's bathroom for nude photos. He would still have gotten paid for quick snapshots of the man walking.

Seifer's retort fell flat. Glaring menacingly, he decided the kid didn't need to be alive for Epson to be found.

Rui realized the time for flight had come. Fleeing, he bolted just as the blond started after him. In a panic, he sought the commander's protection. Running to the room he had seen the brunet walk into, he threw the door open and ran in headlong. Coward or not, he didn't fancy dying at the hands of Ultimecia's knight. "Commander Leonhart!" he cried out, jumping forward and grabbing the man.

Not even fully dressed, Squall was taken by surprise. Half way in and out of the greenish colored shirt, his arms were caught in the shirtsleeves while the thief clung to him as though for dear life.

With his wiry arms wrapped around the commander's bare torso, Rui exclaimed pleadingly, "He's gonna kill me!"

Following the thief's path, Seifer stood in the doorway. Outraged, he watched as the little brat clung to a half naked Squall. The brunet just stood there with sopping wet hair and his arms in a sort of tangled entrapment.

At first, Squall attempted to pinch the bridge of his nose. Unable to do that, he looked at Seifer in exasperation. "What have you been doing?"

Stricken, Seifer furrowed his brows and defended, "I haven't done a damn thing. The kid just flipped out."

"Did not!" Rui countered, his head turned away over the commander's shoulder.

Gritting his teeth, Squall wondered if having Seifer around was going to help him or cause more stress. "Rui, let go of me," he ordered softly.

"But," the raven-haired boy protested, squeezing tighter. He didn't know why, but he trusted the commander.

"Seifer is not going to hurt you," Squall assured.

"Says you," Seifer muttered under his breath.

Sending a glare the knight's way, Squall attempted to pull Rui off himself. It didn't work out, so he attempted to finish putting his shirt on. The boy was forced to step back.

Pulling the shirt down, Squall said, "Rui, I'll have a student fix you up with new quarters right away. Okay?"

Rui distanced himself obligingly, feeling as though the more space between him and the commander, the closer he was to the violent knight. "I want to stay here," he requested solemnly. It was hardly the idea of being in Balamb Garden that felt safe. He couldn't return without the pictures, but there was little chance of accomplishing that. He wanted to stay with the commander. There were very few things he felt strongly about, such as not breaking the law, but staying close to the Balamb lion was one of them.

Grabbing a towel, Squall draped it over his head and walked out past Seifer. He didn't need to be dealing with this now. It was bad enough he had to deal with an ex-knight who acted like a kid most of the time.

"But it's not safe with the other students," Rui continued in protest. He wasn't stupid enough to believe he could not return and Epson wouldn't care. Epson's reputation was hardly that of a forgiving man.

Squall paused in the middle of tousling his hair dry. "What do you mean?" he questioned quietly.

"Epson got in before, I know that," Rui admitted.

Just when Seifer didn't think he could dislike the brat anymore, he did. "Listen, you little piece of chicken shit, when we ask you tell us everything you know, that means _everything,_" he spat angrily.

Quickly moving towards the commander and out of the knight's reach, Rui glanced back and gave the man a stubborn look. "You never asked me about _this_ place," he said, referring to garden.

"Rui," Squall began, letting the towel hang forgotten over a shoulder. "Tell me what you meant by it not being safe?"

Again, looking into those grey-blue eyes, Rui couldn't help but feel at ease. "Epson mentioned being here before, and I don't think it's possible he could have done so without some help. I'm no detective, but on the streets you have to suspect everyone."

Nodding, Squall tossed the towel on the back of the couch and turned away to walk into the kitchen. Rui hadn't mentioned anything that he hadn't already considered. It was likely that there was an inside source. Epson might even be hidden among them. As headmaster, he refused to suspect his cadets. It might have been foolish considering Rui was proof of at least one spy among the young fighters in training, but he refused to lose faith in the very fiber of Balamb Garden simply because he had an annoying stalker on the loose.

With a sigh, Squall murmured, "I'll have someone I know to be trustworthy escort you." He considered Selphie for the job, certain the energetic pilot would quite enjoy showing the young teen around the premises.

"No, I want to stay here," Rui reaffirmed, already wondering where he might acquire a large chain to lock himself to the commander's bedpost. He knew taking chances often meant winding up rotting in the gutter. At this point, he had already betrayed Epson. The commander had already offered protection and a better place to stay than he'd had in all his life, but such protection meant nothing if he couldn't trust the people doing the protecting.

"You can't," Squall said flatly. In the kitchen, he set about making a pot of coffee. It was nearly noon, but he needed a little something to wake up. He had a long day ahead.

Seifer followed his rival into the kitchen, smirking at how the boy crept back out and moved around to the small alcove, too afraid of him to be in the same room.

Gabriel jumped on the counter and was shortly met by Rui, who sat down on a stool. "Please, you gotta let me stay here. I can't sleep if I know someone might ice me."

"There's no room," Seifer argued, leaning against the reflective surface of the refrigerator.

"I can sleep on the couch or the floor," Rui suggested hopefully. His big brown eyes searched for any sign of sympathy from the icy toned commander. He found none. Desperate, he said, "Then perhaps I should leave. Go back to Epson." It was an empty threat and he felt guilty for making it the second the words were out of his mouth. He doubted he would ever manage to put a leash on his unruly tongue.

Squall set the filter he had in hand down. Turning he regarded Rui with a serious expression. "You wouldn't do that," he stated evenly, knowing the boy's best hope for reaching adulthood would be staying in Balamb Garden. More than that, he suspected the boy felt safe under his protection, despite the fact that he had done nothing to show he even cared.

Thrown, Rui stared wide-eyed. "No," he agreed, turning his eyes downcast. It almost sounded like the commander trusted him, but he wasn't foolish enough to believe someone so smart would trust a thief.

Scoffing, Seifer said, "Yeah, well that's obvious. Epson wouldn't be too happy with you."

"That's not why!" Rui exclaimed heatedly. He couldn't help feeling how he did. Even if he could go back, he didn't think he would want to. He liked Commander Leonhart, even if he didn't know why. He couldn't explain himself, not when no one had any reason to believe him.

Squall studied the boy's downtrodden demeanor curiously. It was like watching kicked puppy. Feeling a small pang of sympathy, he understood what it was like to be unable to express oneself properly. He couldn't tell what was running through the boy's head, but he figured there was more to it than the selfish urge for self-preservation. Perplexed by his odd urge to comfort the boy, he left the coffee filter forgotten on the counter and moved towards the opening Rui sat behind. Unpracticed when it came to comforting someone with actions or words, he simply ruffled spiky black hair. "I know why," he assured.

Seifer watched in shock at the consoling actions of his rival. Jaw clenching, he observed the brat gazing adoringly at the commander. It was no wonder Leonhart had a fucking stalker. The oblivious commander went around putting ideas in people's heads and giving hope.

"Does that mean I can stay here?" Rui asked hopefully.

"No," Squall stated again, moving back to finish making the coffee. He waited a moment before adding, "But I'll have a trusted friend set you up in a place nearby."

"How near?" Rui asked immediately, ready to bargain.

"Near enough," the brunet replied, not really knowing where the closest dorm room was in respect to his own.

"Can I come here when I want?" Rui asked excitedly. He had never stayed at any place so fancy as garden. This whole thing might turn out to be pretty fun.

Squall waited a moment. He was taking a big chance by trusting the boy. "Within reason," he finally answered.

"A word, Leonhart," Seifer hissed out, stalking from the kitchen swiftly.

As Squall made to follow, Rui commented, "If he tries to rape you, just give a shout." It was his unaccounted for tongue again.

Squall nearly tripped over his own two feet.

Seifer grabbed the nearest object and chucked it at the thief's head. Lucky for Rui it happened to be the towel Squall had used on his hair.

Straightening, Squall ignored the comment and followed the blond, prepared for a heated argument.

TBC… Please review… I'll give you a cookie…


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Conquering Desires

Squall stood calmly in the center of the room, waiting for Seifer to start yelling. The door slammed shut and a moment later the blond stood towering in front of him. Though he wasn't intimidated, he understood why Rui had shaken visibly in fear earlier.

"Are you seriously considering letting this kid stay anywhere other than a jail cell?" Seifer asked, doing his best to keep his voice level in check.

Regardless of height, Squall kept his head trained forward. Eyes gazing upward, he didn't reply.

"Okay," Seifer said, getting the message. "Then please, explain to this to me," he requested, fuming in his annoyance. Pacing away, he stalked back only to repeat the action once more as he struggled for the exact words to express his anger and dislike. "This kid is a thief whose name you recognized?" His voice was incredulous.

Holding a blank expression, Squall didn't react in the least. At times like these, the blond could pretty much carry on the entire argument alone. Not to mention, he usually refrained from answering obvious questions.

Seifer continued, "That means _you_, who don't even know your own secretary's name, which is _Alice Mayer_ by the way, have read enough reports involving this little criminal to remember the name."

Still silent, Squall just stared. Cut purses were one of Dollet's biggest issues. Rui's name had only been vaguely familiar, something he had caught scanning a list at one time or another. Mind wandering, he wondered if the blond were finished ranting.

"Reputation aside," Seifer started to rant some more, "how about the fact that he snuck in here like a certain other someone? How about the fact that he's working for that very same someone?" he growled. Was he the only sane person present?

If Squall watched carefully, he could see the angled shadows from the blinds shifting while precious time passed. He could be in his office working or looking for Rinoa.

Not noticing the inattentive expression on the commander's face, Seifer carried on his one sided conversation. "You can't believe a single word that comes out of his mouth. For all we know, he was the person who broke in the night before last. How long do we really know he's been here? He might have already earned his twenty thousand gil."

Seriously, Squall could have sworn that the sun had shifted enough to move the light a good millimeter across the floor.

"Squall?" Seifer bit out, catching on to the fact that he was being ignored.

"Hnn," the brunet responded, trying to remember the degree per hour ratio that the sun traveled. If he could, then perhaps he'd know how much time had been wasted listening to the blond's rhetoric.

"Hey, pretty boy!" Seifer shouted, snapping his fingers in direct sight of the man's distant gaze.

Pushing the older boy's hand away from his face, Squall finally acknowledged the attention addict. "Seifer, just let it go," he said dismissively.

Incredulously, the knight reiterated, "Let it go?"

Sighing, Squall realized that it was hopeless to try and appease his rival. "I know Rui isn't lying. I don't think I'm alone in being able to decipher between the truth and a well acted lie."

Crossing his arms over his broad chest, Seifer stared down intensely. "I couldn't tell when he showed up and said he was a new recruit."

"Oh?" Squall intoned, his knowing eyes searching the jade green ones. "You didn't sense anything? It seems to me that you haven't liked him from the start." He waited a moment for the blond to think back. "What was your initial impression of him?"

Musing for a moment, Seifer thought back to his feelings about the boy when he had first watched him cross the training center and offer a hand. He hadn't liked the kid. Then again, he generally didn't like anybody, especially newbie idiots who didn't know their place. "I thought he was a little shit then too."

Pinching the bridge of his nose and shifting his weight to one leg, Squall took a moment to contemplate. "Seifer, you're the one who brought him here," he pointed out logically.

"Yeah, well he's harmless. I'd call him a chicken-wuss if I didn't think it was too offensive to Dincht, who may look like a chicken, but at least has some guts," the blond muttered with a wave of his hand.

"Exactly." Squall's agreement earned a surprised looked from the older boy. "He would be more of a threat if we let him leave. With him here willingly, he won't try to escape and we might have a chance at setting this Epson guy up."

Pressing his lips tightly together, Seifer considered the commander's idea. It wasn't that he hadn't also thought of it, but that he had been slightly blinded by his dislike for the thief.

"Before you jump down my throat, perhaps you should think first," Squall reprimanded. As it stood, he had been the one to wake up with a strange person in his private quarters. If anyone should be angry, it certainly wasn't Seifer.

Green eyes widened at the younger man's words. Blanching, Seifer turned his face away while cursing inwardly. His mind still dwelled on the vivid dream he'd had. Distant images came forward as he misconstrued Leonhart's words in the most lewd of ways. Looking anywhere but at his rival, he found himself gazing at an unmade bed, the setting for his dream. Trying to banish his wildly inappropriate thoughts, he bit out, "You might know when he is telling the truth, but that's only about what he does admit. For all we know he took those pictures before. He hasn't denied it."

"That's because he doesn't know about them," Squall countered, ignoring the slight blush that had come to the knight's tanned cheeks.

"How do you know? Have you asked him?"

Soundly reasoning, Squall responded, "What's the use in giving him more information than he already has?"

"You don't know what he might be keeping from us. He can't lie if he doesn't speak." Though Seifer didn't technically believe his own logic, it was fitting for the matter at hand.

"Look," Squall began impatiently, "Shiva would have let me know if the kid was a threat. She also would have told me if it was the same person from the other night."

Seifer's lips pressed tightly together as he lost any valid reasons for kicking the brat out. He couldn't explain that most of his baleful feelings were born of jealousy, since he refused to admit that he was jealous of the way the commander treated the boy with such uncharacteristic kindness.

Seeing defeat in those dancing green eyes, Squall changed the topic. "Did I pass out right after our fight?"

Looking sullen, hating to admit defeat for the second time in one day, Seifer answered, "Yeah." When the pale man just raised finely sculpted eyebrows and waited for him to continue, he explained further, "You were out cold and I was gonna take you back here. With our blades I would've had to make two trips or wait around for you to wake up. You seemed pretty out of it. Then the brat showed up and offered a hand." Glaring at the floor, he spat, "I'm lucky Hyperion was in one piece."

"And when do we get to the part where I wake up on the couch and with Rui sitting on the coffee table? When did you first know he wasn't a student?" Bright eyes stared off distantly as if Squall was reliving each event in his mind. He seemed to be searching to put it all together so that it fit perfectly. Missing pieces of time were bothersome.

Following the brunet's lead, Seifer replayed it all quickly through his mind. When he recalled a curious Rui groping the effeminate man's chest, he faltered. He had a sinking feeling that the ice prince wouldn't like that part. "Well," he began hesitantly, "he was so damn eager to be here, which was a bit odd. I might have scared him a little when I got suspicious, and then he cracked and essentially begged for mercy. I told him he had some questions to answer, and that's when you woke up."

Though Seifer's explanation was vague, Squall couldn't deny that the kid had been terrified that the ex-knight might kill him. Smirking, he wondered if this was how the blond was with all kids.

"What're you smiling about?" Seifer asked, seeing a gleam in those bright eyes that almost seemed to be laughing at him.

Shaking his head, Squall kept his thoughts to himself. "How long was I out?"

Eyeing the commander's pale face keenly, Seifer wondered what was going on in that head. "Not long. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes."

Nodding slightly, Squall turned to leave the room.

"Wait!" Seifer blurted out before thinking twice.

Squall stilled, glancing back and regarding the blond with concern. There had been something a bit off in Seifer's behavior since that morning and he wasn't sure what it was or if he was just being overly sensitive.

Moving back towards the tall knight, he studied jade green eyes for some indication of why the man was acting oddly. "What is it?" he asked. It was probably nothing at all, but he suspected something was bothering the knight. He thought about Rui, knowing Seifer usually wasn't so overtly adverse to anyone.

Seifer winced at his own stupidity as the brunet walked closer. For a moment he was lost while looking into those mixed blue-grey eyes. Somehow he felt as though his dream were reoccurring all over again. It didn't matter that they weren't lying beside each in bed or that the room wasn't covered in shadows with pouring rain sounding in the background. There was still Squall looking at him with vibrant eyes and speaking to him with soft lips. He could almost feel how warm the brunet had felt against him.

Fighting the urge to grab the shorter man and press their lips together, Seifer stood frozen. He didn't understand the extent of his attraction. He refused to acknowledge his urges as anything other than a repressed libido. He almost groaned when fine brows creased with concern. Leonhart was apparently worried, and it was somehow endearing.

Reaching a hand out, Seifer cupped Squall's cheek. It was so soft, and so warm he suspected the commander was a bit feverish. He watched as stubborn impassiveness shatter into frozen shards, bright eyes widened. Smoothing his actions over, he said softly, "I thought you had a fever before. You still feel a bit warm." The tone of his voice was laden with unexpressed emotion, but he hoped it just sounded like concern.

Flustered, Squall could feel the warmth Seifer was referring to. The trouble was, he didn't know who it was coming from or why. Had Seifer always acted like this? He didn't remember ever being quite so intimate or concerned before, but then again playing nurse was probably somewhere in the contract Quistis had drawn up. He was embarrassed to admit that his mind had first perceived the blond's actions in a romantic sense, quickly dismissing such a ludicrous notion and rationalizing the situation. Still, he felt uneasy.

With mixed emotions, Squall reacted as he would to most anything else. Cold and aloof, he replied, "I feel fine. I just got out of the shower, that's all." He wondered why Seifer's hand was still in place. Even more questionable was why he didn't smack it away.

While the impassive nature his rival carried was hardly unusual, it was unsatisfactory. Seifer didn't know what he had expected, but he had figured the brunet's composure would be shaken for more than a few seconds. Without any sign that his proximity was inappropriate, his mind began to fill with ideas. Feeling encouraged by the lack of hostility, Seifer let his hand linger against the other's warm cheek. Then, in a move that left his heart beating rapidly, he gently stroked his thumb across the soft porcelain like skin.

Seifer's heart stopped when he saw the dark fringe of long lashes flutter down briefly. That was most definitely a reaction. Encouraged even further, he kept his thumb moving gently. Regardless of the accepted action, he felt compelled to disguise the obvious and play it off as nothing more than a simple gesture. "You always say you're fine." His words were barely above a whisper. Unknowingly, his feet took a step forward, closing the short distance between them.

Squall felt the heat grow, and he was rather sure it was coming from them both. He felt flushed, acutely aware of the rough feel of the ex-knight's thumb ghosting along his cheek. Such a simple touch felt nice, but he had to wonder what it meant exactly. Such displays of concern seemed over the top and out of place. This wasn't how normal people, friends, expressed their worry. At least, Quistis had never done this. Nor had any of the others. Was he missing something? Would Rinoa have acted like this?

Something clicked when Squall thought of Seifer's actions as something more than just a gesture between friends and old rivals. Yet, that couldn't possibly be right. When the blond stepped closer, his breath hitched. This couldn't be what he thought it might be. Uncertain and looking for the reassurance that the older boy was joking, he gazed into ardent green eyes. Surely he was mistaken. Was it lust he saw in Seifer's eyes? It simply wasn't possible. Unable to think properly, he was frozen in place as his unusually quiet rival moved too close for comfort.

Seifer watched the uncertainty swirl in endless blue-grey depths. He couldn't help but predict the regret he would have over his actions, but he felt as though he was in a trance. From the moment he'd called out for the brunet to stop, he could have predicted he'd be doing something like this. There was an expression akin to anguish on the commander's face, pleading for him to somehow prove that his actions were completely innocent and not the least bit sensual. He knew his rival's mind was trying to understand what he was up to, but he wouldn't wait long enough for it to register. Lush lips were calling to him and his dream was begging to be made a reality.

With agonizing slowness, Seifer leaned down to lay claim on Squall's lips. Certainly there was plenty of time for refusal, some instinctive notion that would take over even though the pretty boy was obviously too shocked to realize what was going on.

When Seifer was mere inches from his desire, the door clicked open. Something broke. Actually, it rather seemed to shatter. The mood of surreal intimacy came to a screeching halt as Rui rushed in.

"Commander! Oh, I'm sorry!" Rui exclaimed in shock. He hadn't thought the two of men would actually be doing anything when he was in the next room.

Snapping to attention, Squall jerked away from Seifer's hand. If the blushing boy's reaction to what was happening just now were any indication then he would say it had been a rather different type of intimacy than he had initially thought. Forcing himself not to make excuses, he muttered, "What is it?"

Standing in the doorway, Rui was obviously intent on backing out. "I didn't mean to interrupt," he began abashedly, venturing forth with an apologetic gaze to the commander. "I was going to tell you that I've met the girl in this picture. I just thought it was a funny coincidence is all…." he trailed off as he held a photo out. .

Eyes widening, Squall reached a hand out for the wallet-sized photo. He didn't need to look at it to know what it showed. "You've met her?" he asked, his words sounding rather forced.

Eying the commander uncertainly, Rui replied with only half as much vigor as he'd had when first intending to mention it, "Yeah, small world huh? Is she your girlfriend?"

Coming to his senses, Squall asked the important question, "When did you meet her?"

From over the brunet's shoulder, Seifer glanced down to a picture of Rinoa smiling happily as she sat in Leonhart's lap and draped her arms around his neck. Though the commander in the picture wasn't grinning from ear to ear like the dark haired woman, there was still a pleasant smile on those pretty lips. Warily, Seifer turned his gaze from the picture held loosely in Squall's grip to the thief who had picked a shitty ass time to barge in.

"About a week ago, I think," Rui answered, looking upwards and scratching his chin in thought. "Yeah, last Monday. I was, uh, _borrowing _some clothes from this one store. Real nice place, all ritzy like, but they gotta be dreamin' if they think any kid's gonna pay their prices. I mean-"

"Rui, the girl," Squall interjected.

"Right, well, apparently the clerk people have some policy saying that you can't borrow their clothes-"

"You mean _steal_," Seifer cut in, glaring at the brat. He was a sore loser. He had been less than an inch from Squally-boy's enticing lips. Now he had nothing to show for his actions except the consequences of having to awkwardly explain why he had tried to kiss the brunet in the first place.

Glaring in return, Rui continued unabated, "Well, me 'n these clerks got in a small argument. Then outta nowhere, she shows up." He pointed at the picture. "Looking all pretty like in the picture, she steps in and defends me." He gestured to himself in emphasis. "Anyway, she said I was her little brother and got them to back off. And then, she actually bought the clothes for me. I tell you, I thought I fell in love." As if realizing the implications of his last comment, he quickly added, "So to speak."

Staring at the picture, Squall felt his mind scrambling to absorb it all. His brain had not yet finished processing one confusing event when he was given another to work on. Tightening his grip on the picture, he asked while staring beyond Rui and through the door, "In Dollet right? Was the shop called 'Trends'?" It was the name of Rinoa's favorite, among many, stores to shop at.

"Yeah," Rui answered in a small voice. Seeing that far off look to the commander's eye made him think he had done something to hurt the guy really bad. He hadn't meant any harm. He had just been killing the time and checking out the commander's room when he'd found the picture in the top drawer of his dresser beneath a rather sharp looking dagger. He had recognized the pretty man immediately, but hadn't realized who the lady was until thinking about for a bit. His previous excitement was gone. He wished he hadn't said anything.

"Thanks Rui, I'll have Selphie come and get you," Squall mumbled before walking out of the room.

Seifer didn't dare stop the brunet. He knew where he could find the confused pretty boy, so he hung back and watched him leave.

Rui was slightly fearful of being left alone with the sorceress' knight. When he turned his eyes on the knight, he very nearly jumped back with a yelp. There was a murderous glare directed at him. Not knowing what else to do, Rui apologized, "Sorry."

Taking a deep breath, Seifer walked past Rui to the door. In a fit of uncontrolled anger, he swiftly raised a fist and slammed it harshly into the reinforced wood of the doorframe. The entire room seemed to shake, though no indent was made. The thief yelped in surprise behind him, but he ignored the kid.

It would have been so easy to blame Rui right then, but Seifer knew that wasn't right. He had been so close to kissing Squall. Even now as his mind told him it was for the best and that having done so would have ruined everything between them, he felt a terrible longing. He'd wanted to kiss those lips so badly, and he'd gotten so near to claiming them. Now his chest ached with unknown feelings. Seeing that expression on Squall's face after hearing about Rinoa had felt like a punch to the gut.

Needing to get of there, needing to rid himself of unwanted feelings, Seifer stalked from the room. Following the brunet's actions, he walked past the open living area and towards the main doorway. Squall would be in the headmaster's office, but he had another destination in mind. Hardly thinking, he called out to the thief before leaving, "Stay put, and don't touch a damn thing. Watch TV or something, and Tilmitt will be here to get you soon."

The door slid shut with an empty echo. Rui was left in the wake of some disaster he had accidentally caused. Shoulders slumping, he wondered if everyone around garden was so temperamental. As he sat on the couch, too afraid to not comply with the blond's orders, he wondered how he was supposed to know who this Selphie or Tilmitt person was.

TBC…


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Letting Go

With so much pent up inside of him, Seifer took a little time out and went to the gym. Garden workout facilities went far beyond just the training center.

The boxing gym had been vacated as the pernicious aura surrounding Ultimecia's knight radiated out and ran even the most steadfast of SeeD off. Like a pentameter keeping rhythm, the sound of jingling chain links rang through the air with each powerful strike made to the punching bag.

While Seifer's body moved with practiced ease, his mind tried to sort through his mixed feelings.

Two days ago he hadn't had any problems other than a mild case of bored melancholy. If he had refused the offer to come back, he would have been out on a fishing boat in some sweet spot inlet near Fisherman's Horizon.

Shuffling, he moved around the bag with each harsh blow.

There was no changing that he had returned. In truth, he knew it had been a good decision. Fishing might have entertained him for a short while, but he would have grown bored and moved on in a matter of days. Returning to Balamb Garden may very well have been inevitable for him. It had just happened sooner than he could have anticipated. Part of him had dated his glorious return for the day when Squally-boy finally collapsed in front of all those cameras.

The chains clinked and swayed under the violent punching of Seifer's fists.

Leonhart wouldn't be collapsing anytime soon, not while he was around.

Rhythm thrown off, Seifer began beating the innocent bag mercilessly. It was his job to look after the commander. There was absolutely nothing more to it than self-serving interest. He didn't care what happened to his rival. It was about money and gloating rights.

With a pop, one of the metal links broke, and the bag went flying. It landed with a heavy thud nearby.

Arms lowered, Seifer breathed heavily for a few moments before moving to another punching bag.

The root of his troubles was not why he had returned, but why he couldn't stop ogling his rival's ass and why he had fucking jacked off while dreaming of the stormy eyed brunet and why he had almost kissed the stubborn little mute less than an hour ago. Where the hell had such an attraction come from? He had known Squall most his life. He wasn't blind to the fact that his rival was rather attractive with a strange androgyny, but he had never actually felt turned on.

It was getting more difficult to convince himself that his feelings were nothing more than a repressed sex drive. Not fulfilling his more basic needs had never given him erotic dreams or caused him to nearly lose control and kiss someone.

Angrily, he recalled how Squall hadn't protested or shied away. In fact, he would even go so far as to say the brunet rather enjoyed his touch. From the way confused eyes fluttered shut to how that lithe body shivered subtly, he wondered what his rival might be hiding. The commander couldn't possibly have been thinking about him in the same way, right? Then again, he was the sexiest man alive. It wouldn't be terribly surprising if Leonhart wanted him.

Scoffing, Seifer quickly corrected his thinking. There would be nothing more shocking than Leonhart lusting after him, no matter how sexy he might be.

He had nothing against being gay, so long as it didn't involve him. Just because he found Leonhart slightly easy on the eyes didn't mean he was gay. The very thought of bedding a man was revolting.

Pausing, Seifer wondered why the thought of bedding his rival wasn't revolting. Effeminate as the pretty boy might be, the commander was obviously male. With a scowl, he recalled his dream clearly. When the eager little minx had finished servicing him and begged for more, his heterosexual imagination had not bothered to tamper with the boy's gender. The aroused bedmate from his dreams had sported an aroused cock.

Resuming his furious pounding on the punching bag, Seifer berated his foolishness. He needed to stop humoring the idea that he liked Leonhart as anything other than a sparring partner. There was only one solution to his desires that he could think of. He needed to fuck some pretty little blonde's brains out. The commander would be in his office for all day, which was something he couldn't argue against after losing their spar. Garden was full of nice looking women, many of whom would be more than willing to have a quickie with the infamous sorceress' knight. Chicks loved bad guys, especially when they were as good looking as he was.

With a final hit, he walked past the swinging bag and headed for the locker room. After a quick shower and fresh set of clothes, he would be ready to go.

--

Squall paced back and forth in his office. Blinds drawn, sunlight poured, but did nothing to counter his brooding state of mind. He was restless.

The group of SeeD he had dispatched to Dollet a week ago had been given orders to revisit the clothing store Trends. He wouldn't blame the oversight on incompetence, but he was upset that it had happened. If he had been in the field manning the search, he felt certain he would have found Rinoa earlier. Instead, he was pacing his office, waiting for news.

Rinoa's face was not easily mistaken, so Squall did not doubt Rui's word or that the boy had in fact met the raven-haired sorceress. He was relieved to know Rinoa was safe and sound enough to be out shopping. Concerned as he had been for her welfare, much of his relief was because the press had been alerted to his girlfriend's absence and not having any answers would have been a nightmare. His greatest relief was that his stalker probably had nothing to do with Rinoa's disappearance.

Forcing himself to stop pacing, he sat down at his desk and tried to calm himself. Swiveling his chair around, he faced the large window and the bright day outside. The sunlight warmed him. He decided not to worry unnecessarily, refusing to brood over Rinoa's presence in Dollet until he learned more about it.

Quietly thinking to himself, he soon remembered another disturbing matter. As much as he would like to have dismissed the notion that Seifer had almost kissed him, there was no mistaking the blond's intentions before Rui's timely interruption. While he could not fathom why Seifer would ever kiss him, he could not stretch his imagination to excuse the obvious action as something else.

Scowling, Squall figured it had been meant as a joke. The arrogant man took great pleasure in shocking and flustering those around him. Mood darkening, he clearly recalled what he had seen in the ex-knight's eyes. Had it truly been a joke? Despite his confusion at the time, he could still envision the gleam of lust in his rival's eyes. Though it was too farfetched to believe, he did not doubt his conclusions.

Squall ran his fingers through his slightly damp hair, his frustration only growing. He could not understand the inner workings of another person and shouldn't even be wasting time trying. What he should be trying to understand was why the hell he hadn't pulled away from his rival. Shocked or not, he shouldn't have been completely frozen in place. He refused to accept that he hadn't moved because he wanted Seifer to kiss him.

With a heavy sigh, Squall shook his head. He would not lie to himself. A small part of him had been curious, if not excited. It was the same part of him that had shivered involuntarily when Seifer marked his neck. The rough feel of his rival's hand against his cheek had been pleasant. Was his body simply reacting naturally to the touch of another person? He hadn't grown up with a solid understanding of relationships or human behavior. His anatomy classes as a student hadn't explained the intricacies of the body's reaction to a caressing touch.

Growling in frustration, Squall sunk into his chair deeper. Crossing his arms, he sulked and brooded, an innocent lip caught between his teeth as he worried the soft flesh out of habit. He and Seifer shared a strange bond, but it had never been the least bit sexual or even amicable. Somehow he didn't think that the human body was flippant enough to find just any person's touch pleasing. If so, that would mean he had felt his spine tingle and temperature rise because it had been _Seifer_. What would have happened if Seifer had actually kissed him?

Biting down on his lip harshly, he rid himself of such nonsensical notions regarding what had surely been a joke. He was misunderstanding everything. He had simply reacted because it was a foreign feeling and the lust he had seen in green eyes had been nothing more than a play of sunlight and mischievous gleam.

Knowing he should concern himself with more important matters, Squall couldn't stop thinking about it. The craziest questions arose in his head. _What if Seifer liked him? What if it hadn't been a joke at all? What would it feel like to kiss his rival?_

Before he could stop his runaway thoughts, he absently touched his fingertips to his mouth. _What would it feel like to kiss Seifer? _

Realizing his thoughts abruptly, he straightened and quickly turned around to face his desk. Concentrating forcefully, he became determined to get some work done. It was still early in the day, there was no reason not to accomplish his usual workload.

After a pathetic couple of hours, the commander stopped everything. He had reread the same line in a cadet's performance review five times. He was simply incapable of concentrating properly, and he knew it would be a waste to continue trying.

Deciding to take a short break, he turned his chair back around to face the window. The view was quite nice, looking out over the sea.

Perhaps the most bothersome aspect of thinking about Seifer was that he couldn't stop. It wasn't the odd questions, but his inability to stop obsessing over the matter.

Had his lack of experience with physical pleasure left him scrambling to account for a meaningless instance of contact between himself and his rival? He would never be able to look to hold his head high again if he had sunk so pathetically low.

Rolling his eyes at his own insecurities, Squall soundly concluded that being a virgin had nothing to do with anything. He wasn't desperate for sex, which didn't make him desperate to be touched or kissed. His need to understand what had happened came from the sheer insanity of what he suspected Seifer Almasy of. There was simply no way the ex-knight had been about to kiss him, and yet that was exactly what had happened. The math simply didn't add up, like two opposing truths that could not coexist at the same time.

Frustration mounting, Squall shifted uncomfortably until he settled into the plush leather chair. It was significantly warmer in his office now that the sun had had time to warm it up. It was still fairly early in the day, but he was beginning to doubt his ability to work. Until he cleared his head, he wouldn't be able to concentrate.

Brooding, an act he was a master at, he drifted willingly wherever his thoughts took him. Slowly, as the minutes collected and the sun heated him pleasantly, his eyes fluttered shut. It was hardly unusual for him to sleep in his office, but never in the middle of the day.

--

Squall's brooding thoughts had apparently warranted Shiva's protective concern. Having fallen asleep unwittingly, the commander was soon transported to a world of his guardian force's creation. Whether it was all in his head was not something he had ever asked the ice queen.

Different than the previous time, the snowy world around him was not an open expanse. He stood in the dark enclosure of snowy woods. Needled trees surrounded him in thick clusters, rising high and nearly blotting out all sight of the night sky. They were no ordinary pines, but then again he was not in the real world.

The light snowfall thickened, flurries making it difficult to see very far ahead. Under the cover of thick branches, he chose a direction and began walking.

Shortly after starting out, just enough time passing to leave him in anticipation of finding his guardian force, Squall reached a clearing. Walking past the outer edge of trees, he stepped forward to the open space. Able to see the sky more clearly, he gazed up at the midnight blue sky, a full moon shining directly down. It was then he noticed it had stopped snowing.

"You are well, my lion?" a dreamlike voice echoed on the wind.

Lowering his head, Squall turned around. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Well enough," he answered. He thought of asking where she had been, but he couldn't expect her to always be watching over him.

"You are troubled." Shiva's dark blue lips formed a frown. Her stubborn little lion seemed incapable of finding peace.

Squall's smile faltered at the sight of an obvious displeased ice queen.

"There is so much chaos in you," Shiva murmured with worry. Gazing into the prideful lion's youthful eyes, she studied him closely. "Chaos in your heart and mind," she added.

Wondering if Shiva might be able to give him the solid answers he was searching for, Squall took a step forward and spoke, "Seifer has come back."

"Yes, I know little one." Shiva reached a hand toward the lost boy. As he came to her, she brushed his cheek, but stopped when he winced.

"You know?" Squall questioned, unsure of when the ice queen had surfaced in his mind to observe the happenings of the real world.

"It was quite enjoyable to be battling that spirited man again." Electric blue eyes sparkled in delight. "I'm disappointed I did not have my chance to assist you."

Remembering the fight between him and Seifer, Squall realized that Shiva would have of course been present. Always ready to be summoned at a moment's notice in battle, she had been watching and waiting.

The confusion and loss evident in her lion's eyes did not fade. Stubborn to a fault, the boy would never recognize what his heart felt at this rate. Shiva kindly pointed out, "You have feelings for this man."

Staring at his guardian force wide-eyed, Squall struggled to find an adequate response. "We've been rivals since we were young and six months ago we were enemies. I have feelings for him, most of which involve curses."

Chuckling lightly, Shiva made to sit on the snowy ground. Patting the spot beside herself, she gestured for the brave commander to sit down as well. "There is passion and love. These are what you feel for him."

Mouth gaping at a loss, Squall eventually refuted, "I feel nothing of the sort." He sat beside Shiva indignantly.

Gently stroking her lion's hair, Shiva tried to coax the truth out. "Oh, but you do. No other person has been with you for so long. I have seen all your memories. It hurt to watch so many people leave, even if you were happy they were moving on to better lives. This knight was always different. Seifer, as you call him, was always with you, even when you thought he left you behind as well."

The silence stretched as Squall thought back to his times in the orphanage. Shiva held many of his memories, securing her place in his mind, but he had eighteen years worth of memories that made it hard to miss a few.

"Rivals and enemies share a passion between each other that is hardly different than that between lovers."

"We're _not _lovers," Squall spat defensively.

Seeing that her lion did not take kindly to the idea, Shiva waited for him to calm down before continuing. "People change," she stated knowingly. "I saw the same fiery passion in his eyes as I felt within you during that battle today."

Scoffing, Squall supplied, "The desire to win."

"Perhaps," she consented. "But, I think you have more on your mind. Tell me."

Unable to refuse the softly spoken guardian force, Squall relented, "He… earlier he… I think he tried to… kiss me."

An amused chuckle escaped the ice queen. "There is nothing in a kiss from another if there isn't something in yourself."

"What?" Squall frowned and turned his head to look at her. He didn't understand, or didn't want to acknowledge the implication.

Reaching out, Shiva placed her hands on either side of the brunet's pale face and slowly brought her lips to his. Giving him a soft kiss, she released her hold and looked into bewildered eyes. "It is just a kiss. But when you feel something," she pointed to his heart, "it becomes something more."

"Are you saying…" He stumbled for the right wording. Sometimes he felt completely inept around her.

Smiling gently, Shiva humored the resistant nature of the commander inaccurately called an ice prince. "You would not be so consumed by the act if you hadn't felt something for this childhood companion of yours."

Frowning, Squall decided that was not the answer he wanted.

Standing up, Shiva offered her hand. She studied the lost and lonesome boy for a moment, quite fond of him.

Standing on his own, Squall looked up at the goddess like creature before him, knowing it was time he left.

Shiva placed another kiss on the commander's forehead before speaking in a stern and almost pleading tone, "You must learn to let yourself go."

Uncomprehending, Squall stared into the guardian force's shockingly bright eyes. There was wisdom there, but he did not know what letting go meant. Was it just her way of telling him to rest more?

--

Blinking, Squall was surprised to find himself curled up in his chair at a rather odd angle. The dusk sky's pink and orange hues informed him that he had been asleep a great deal longer than he would have liked. He might as well have never gotten out of bed in the morning for all he had managed to accomplish.

With a crick in his neck, he unfurled his limbs and stood up. After stretching for a moment, he gathered all the files on his desk. With Shiva's advice echoing in his mind, he left his office. If his guardian force had been asking him to rest more, then he would return to his quarters and finish working there.

The trek was short as he tried to understand what Seifer had done what Shiva had implied about his feelings. He was reluctant to face the ex-knight again, but knew he would likely receive greater clarity upon doing so. Still, he felt the urge to hole up in his room without facing his rival until tomorrow. Keying in the code, he hoped no one was inside his apartment.

There were no lights on, which was promising. Taking his boots off, he began to unstrap his gunblade. As he stepped out in the open, a flickering movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Reacting swiftly, he drew Lionheart and started to turn around. Too slow, his blade wasn't in position when another gunblade clashed against it harshly. A tight hand gripped his wielding wrist and crushed it with brute strength. Unable to flex his tendons, his hand opened and lost its hold on his weapon. Lionheart clattered to the tiled ground and he was pushed against the wall.

It all happened in such a fast blur, that Squall hadn't the chance to look at his attacker. There was little question, considering another gunblade had been used against him. Eyes gazing up, he confirmed his assailant to be Seifer. He searched jade-green eyes for a moment, only becoming more confused.

Hyperion was released to fall in a similar manner as Lionheart, while Seifer pressed a forearm against his collar, precariously close to his throat. There was no questioning the seriousness of the force the blond was using. Squall could feel the painful compression as he was pinned to the wall. Angrily, he bit out, "Is this another one of your brilliant ideas? Proving I'm fallible?"

Clenching his jaw tightly, Seifer just stared at the man before him. At the moment, and for the past hour or so, he'd been pissed off beyond reason. After his visit to the gym, he had found the other release he had been looking for. It hadn't worked out as planned. His willing partner had been attractive enough, even mildly interesting to talk to. Nonetheless, when he had kissed her there hadn't been a flicker of passion, absolutely none. Squall's face would not leave his head. His disastrous attempt to release his sexual frustrations had left him twice as frustrated and quite livid with the pretty boy commander who would not leave his head.

Now Seifer had the apparent object of his desire pushed against the wall. Whether to confirm a point or simply give in, there was only one thing he could do. Swiftly, he leaned in and crushed his lips with a bruising force to the unsuspecting brunet's.

Fists swung at him, but Seifer had the advantage. Grappling to keep his unforgiving hold, he bound the commander's wrists with a strong hand. Squally-boy was more likely to have an apoplectic attack than to fend him off. His quarry was unresponsive aside from struggling arms, which he held above the other's head. Demanding a response, roughly gripped Squall's face. With the right pressure, that lush mouth was opened to him.

Seifer felt no satisfaction in what he was doing, but he couldn't stop.

Squall didn't know how to respond. Seifer was hurting him, in more ways than one. As a tongue invaded his mouth, he stopped trying to free his hands and tried instead to use something that wasn't being restrained.

Seifer pulled back with a grunt. Squall had just bit his lip. Licking at the blood, he was thrown off guard by the sudden thrashing of the body before him. Squall squirmed free slightly.

Together, they fought each other. Crashing to the floor, Squall cried out as he broke both their fall.

"Dammit Seifer, what the hell are you…" his sentence was never finished. Seifer had again started to kiss him. When caught, there was little he could do against an opponent of greater physical strength.

After another harsh meshing of lips, Seifer pulled back to look down at the commander. His chest was already tightening with guilt. He had let his anger control his actions.

Looking up, Squall saw guilt, regret, desire, and lust all reflected in green eyes. He didn't understand where this was coming from, or why the blond was being so aggressive. "Seifer," he spoke calmly.

Bowing his head, Seifer wondered if he would ever be able to look Squall in the eyes again. Promptly removing himself from atop the brunet who he had just sexually assaulted, he made his apology. "Squall, I'm sorry." There was no excusing what he had just done. "Dammit," he cursed. "Please, just forget it, I'm sorry." Unable to face the shame, he stood up and made to leave the apartment.

"Wait!" Squall called out to the blond's retreating back. Standing, he winced as his back protested after hitting the floor so hard. He didn't understand anything, but he suspected Seifer could help him figure it out.

Though Seifer had stopped, he still had his back turned. He couldn't imagine what Squall would have to say. Perhaps the brunet wanted to land a solid punch in compensation.

"Turn around," Squall ordered. Shiva's words seemed to take on a different meaning. Unsure of what he meant to do, he closed the distance that separated them. Letting go of his inhibitions, he reached up and pulled his rival's head down, meeting the older boy's lips.

It was Seifer's turn to not respond. Was Leonhart seriously kissing him right? At the feel of warm hands on the back of his neck, he snapped to attention. Gently, he moved his lips against the smaller man's. His arms wrapped around a slim waist and pulled the brunet closer.

Quickly, the kiss deepened. With fervor, Seifer found his way into Squall's mouth. It was such a sweet taste, just like in his dreams, yet so much better. The only difference was the presence of a coppery tang from his bleeding lip.

Squall didn't know if he had found the answer he had been seeking. It was perhaps an affirmation of his worst fears. His body was on fire and every synapse seemed to dance. It was an addicting feeling to have the blond holding him closely and delving into his mouth. He could not hold in the soft moan when Seifer squeezed his ass.

Breaking away, Seifer looked down again at the brunet. Red lips were glistening from the slick exchange. Half lidded eyes could not disguise the raw need in darkened blue orbs. Squeezing the commander's pert ass again, he turned his attention to that slender throat. Just like before, he went about marking it. Moving to the wall, he pressed the other back against it while slipping a knee between slender legs. Still grasping Squall from behind, he pulled the lithe body closer.

The heat Squall felt seemed to center at his groin as Seifer's thigh brushed against him. "Seifer," he gasped, bracing his hands on the other's shoulders. His legs felt weak and ready to give way.

As the two of them pressed against each other the knocking at the door went unnoticed. Seifer's attention returned to Squall's mouth. They were both out of breath, but still desperately kissing each other. Their tongues fought for dominance. Seifer plundered the younger man's mouth, eliciting arousing moans.

It wasn't until the knocking became pounding that either took notice. Breaking apart from their kiss, they panted.

"You'll have to answer it," Seifer informed. He vowed revenge on whoever was at the door.

Looking down, Squall saw a very prominent bulge in Seifer's pants. Blushing, he let the reality of what had just happened set in. The color in his cheeks darkened when he also realized what would have happened if they had not been interrupted.

More pounding sounded and Seifer pulled away. The sudden lack of the warmth was regrettable.

TBC… Seifer with become impotent if you don't review… then where will this story go?


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

To See, To Covet, To Possess

With a frustrated sigh, Squall paused a moment to collect his thoughts. He could tell the severity of his actions hadn't set in yet. Had he just kissed Seifer? His face was already flushed, but his shame increased when he realized it had been no mere kiss. They had been going at each other like there was no tomorrow.

The persistent knocking at the door drew his attention again.

Squall's hesitated another moment, wanting his caller to wait as punishment for interrupting. He couldn't help but feel annoyed. Most everyone knew that he hated being disturbed on any account when within the private confines of his apartment, and he was inexplicably disappointed by not continuing with his rival.

Knowing he was being petulant, he opened the door. Light from the hallway flooded in, but much of it was blocked out by Irvine's tall form.

"Irvine?" Squall questioned, mildly surprised. He supposed it shouldn't have mattered, since he hadn't really any guess as to who it might have been.

Violet eyes narrowed and darkened to a deeper shade. Irvine had come to report to about a lead in Dollet. The commander hadn't been in his office and the secretary said that he had left for the day. Odd as that seemed to the sharpshooter, he figured it had something to do with Seifer. He was alarmed by the muffled sounds he had heard coming from inside the apartment and the amount of time it had taken for Squall to answer the door.

Seeing Irvine's upset demeanor, Squall tilt his head in question. "What is it?" Obviously the gunman wouldn't have come for nothing.

To Irvine's trained eyes, he easily detected every bit of evidence on the commander's body, every wrinkle in that green shirt and misplaced strand of hair. Swiftly, with rough force and very little forethought, he grabbed Squall and yanked him out into the corridor. Gripping the front of the brunet's shirt, he pushed the shorter man against the wall just beside the open doorway.

Grey-blue eyes narrowed. There was only so much pushing around that Squall could take in a single day. If Irvine had been any less of a friend, the cowboy would have been howling in pain over a broken trigger finger. "Kinneas," he warned in a low tone.

Irvine knew the dangers of evoking his leader's wrath, but at the moment he was slightly preoccupied. In the light of the hall, it was clearer to see. Squall's lips were bruised, redder and more pout than usual. Those usually messy strands of dark brown silk were mussed and disheveled in a manner his eyes could not mistake. Most noticeable was the still slick mark on Squall's pale neck. His fist tightened, clenching the cotton material of the commander's shirt tighter. "Did Seifer do this?" he asked demandingly.

All Squall managed to see was a glint of metal before Hyperion was between himself and Irvine, pressed dangerously to the sharpshooter's throat.

"Letting go of the commander would be wise." Seifer's voice was cold and threatening. There was no doubt that he would put the sharpened edge of his gunblade to use without batting an eye.

Realizing his loss, Irvine let go. He might be able to take small liberties with the commander, but not with the ex-knight. Though he let his hand drop, he remained rooted in place, only a foot from the brunet. Not letting his eyes stray from the steely grey depths of his leader, he ignored the weapon at his throat. "There was a report from the squadron in Dollet. The store clerks have made an affirmative ID on Rinoa. One woman claims to have been her roommate for the last month."

Squall's eyes softened slightly, no longer sharply staring up at the gunman. Now that he knew why the lanky man had been so insistent at the door, his annoyance was easily vanquished. "Her roommate?" he asked.

"The squadron is on its way as we speak," Irvine answered. He was unable to read the change in bright grey-blue eyes. He felt a slight wavering in the gunblade held to his neck. His shifted to see the blond out of the corner of his eyes. Whatever momentary lapse in the knight was gone. He saw nothing but an angry glare in those green eyes.

"No," Squall asserted. This was his matter to take care of. He doubted Rinoa would appreciate being tracked down like a target. "Send word for them to pull out. I'm going myself." His orders were not to be questioned. He nimbly slid from the wall and moved away.

"Sir?" Irvine asked, confused. One moment he thought he was talking to Squall and the next it was to the commander. Was there no recourse for his behavior? Just what did it take to send the brunet over the edge? Why could he act so brashly and the man wouldn't even flinch, yet Seifer could simply give an odd glance and Squall would react with intense emotion?

"Now, Kinneas," Squall called over his shoulder.

It was clear that the cold voice in which the slender man spoke was Irvine's temporary punishment for butting in and acting out of line. Watching Squall disappear through the door, he turned his amethyst eyes to the blond. The gunblade at his throat was removed. Glaring, he hissed, "He's not your toy, Almasy."

Green eyes sharpened and warily surveyed violet ones. Grinning cockily, Seifer returned, "My birthday has come early this year and I've been a good boy." He watched the outraged expression distort the gunman's handsome face. Having done his job, he stole away into the apartment and closed the door.

Slipping into his worn in bomber jacket, Squall was ready to go as soon as Seifer came back in. The blond eyed him knowingly. There almost seemed a twinge of sadness in those green eyes. When the taller man made no move to sheath Hyperion or put on his trench coat, Squall prompted, "I'd like to leave sometime soon."

Fine blond eyebrows rose for a moment before understanding set in. A moment later Seifer had slid his dark coat on and was ready to leave. As Squall walked past him, he couldn't suppress a small smile. His eyes traveled to the fine ass he'd had his hands on not that long ago.

--

Lily Madison was the manager of the Trends shop in Dollet. Her relationship with Rinoa Heartilly had begun two years before the war. The young raven-haired sorceress had been a regular customer. Lily had become friends with the political activists even though they rarely saw each other. When Rinoa had showed up and needed a place to stay, she had been more than accommodating. She had also done her part in keeping quiet about Rinoa's presence in Dollet.

--

The trip to Dollet felt like an everlasting ride that wouldn't end. As much as Seifer wanted to discuss the kiss, he was reluctant to broach the topic. He wasn't some little schoolgirl who couldn't understand. He didn't need Squall to explain it. It was just impossible to know what was going on inside that pretty little head of the commander's.

As the boat moved swiftly and smoothly across the waters, Seifer stared unabashedly at the quiet brunet. If the cowboy hadn't interrupted, they would most likely be going at it in the bedroom right now. Would Squall have stopped? The responsiveness from the surprisingly lustful kitten suggested a willingness to go all the way. He was more confused and frustrated now that he had tasted his rival, a flavor he would not easily forget. If it had felt strange and unnatural, he would have been relieved, but it had felt arousing and passionate. Was he the only one who felt inclined to doing it again? Squall had gone cold again almost instantly, as if their heated kiss had no affect. Was it because of Rinoa? Would Caraway's princess steal away his chance for more?

It was clear to Seifer that his sudden attraction was more than some consequence for not having sex on a regular basis. He had made that discovery when he had been unable to get hard for the pretty blonde with dark sultry eyes, a slim figure, and breasts the size of the Lunatic Pandora. The only flicker of arousal he had felt while undressing her had been when he'd pictured Squall in her place. Naturally, he had stormed from her dorm room and waited for the commander's return while wallowing in seething anger.

Currently, Seifer was unable to keep his eyes from following every subtle movement the brunet made. He was beyond curious at the thoughts running through the younger man's mind. He was also quite eager to taste soft lips again.

Eventually Squall caught staring eyes. There seemed to be many questions that the blond wanted to ask him. Squall understood how the knight felt. He was confused and had many questions of his own, but was too preoccupied to become distracted.

Squall had no idea why he had called out to Seifer and initiated another kiss. His head had been clouded at the time, having just been manhandled and assaulted. Oddly, his actions had actually been quite precise considering he hadn't been thinking, instinctive and without hesitancy and regard for consequence.

A dull throb informed Squall that thinking too much had its consequences. With sheer force of willpower, he concentrated on his task at hand, planning what he would do once he found Rinoa.

The trip was short, but gave Squall enough time to review Lily Madison's background. He wasn't surprised that Rinoa had friends he knew nothing about, since the young sorceress was a very outgoing person and he had known her for less than a year.

Squall's initial fear when Rinoa first disappeared was that she had been kidnapped. It was now apparent that he had been dumped. What other explanation was there? Still, he wasn't going to assume anything just yet, not until he spoke with her first.

"Commander," the pilot's voice broke through Squall's reverie.

They were docking.

"Yes, go ahead," Squall gave permission. As the vessel slowed, the gentle rocking of the waves became noticeable.

When they came to a stop Squall watched as the door released with a hiss of compressed air and extended down to the wooden dock. For a city by the ocean, Dollet didn't utilize its resource. The harbor was ancient, repairs a decade overdue. Before disembarking, he informed the pilot and copilot, "You're relieved for the night. We meet tomorrow at eight, but be on standby."

"Yes, sir!" came a rather happy and synced reply from the captain and copilot. The commander had basically given them leave to party in Dollet for the night.

Stepping from the cramped space within the hull, Squall straightened his back. Beside him, Seifer stretched rather dramatically and groaned.

"Geez, they make those things so damn small."

"Perhaps you're just too big," Squall commented with a starting step forward.

Seifer grinned. At least it wasn't tense and awkward between them. Inhaling the salty sea air, he watched Squall walk ahead a bit. His grin turning into a wolfish smirk, he let his eyes gaze at the commander firm ass. He liked it better when Squall wore the leather pants and the material stretched more tightly to leave almost nothing to the imagination.

Seifer's lecherous side had given him renewed vigor. The prospect of having Squall's slim body all to himself was all the encouragement he needed. Rinoa wouldn't stand a chance against him.

Trotting to catch up, Seifer silently declared war. If Squall was going to be with Rinoa then there was a confrontation ahead. It wasn't like him to stir up serious trouble when it wasn't warranted, but he wasn't willing to hand his rival over before he even figured out what it was he wanted. If the kiss were the tip of the iceberg in regards to what the reticent brunet had to offer, then he would have the man one way or another.

Dollet was a bustling city. The streets were crowded, traffic and passersby everywhere. Seifer was reminded of Timber. Gait lengthening, he came even with the shorter man and kept an equal pace. "Holiday shopping," he commented dryly, holding a slight distain for the crowded sidewalk they were on.

"Nnh," Squall replied. The air was cold and he hadn't worn his gloves. He buried his hands into his jacket's pockets in much the same manner as Seifer was doing beside him.

With the two easily recognizable figures walking in stride by each other's side, it was a rather attention grabbing sight. Famous or not, attention was warranted for the pair of rivals who were quite handsome.

"How much farther is this place?" Seifer asked, eyeing the drawing crowd around them. This would be the first public display of Ultimecia's knight being the bodyguard of the world's beloved Balamb lion.

"Not far," Squall grumbled, also eyeing the crowd. He burrowed his face lower into the soft fur collar of his jacket. A gentle hand ruffled his hair. No longer having the instinct to shake it off, Squall let Seifer tousle his hair for as long as the ex-knight wanted to. This was the first time they'd been in contact since they had kissed in his apartment. Simply knowing this brought forth lingering feelings.

For some time, Seifer had noticed the insecure look to Squall's eyes. Vast numbers of people put the brunet on edge. Squally-boy had never liked being around anyone and loathed public places in general. His instinct to place an arm around the man's slender shoulders was surprising, but he settled for simply tousling silky hair. A small, satisfied smirk came to his face when he noticed the commander's lack of protest against his condescending touch. In fact, a light blush crept to those pale cheeks, making him beyond curious what was going on inside the other's head.

Placing his hand back in his coat pocket, Seifer said evenly, "Give it a couple years and they might find something else to look at."

"That's a couple years too long," Squall replied, keeping his head bowed and out of sight while he spoke.

Sounding an agreement, Seifer ventured further, "Want me to give them something else to look at?"

Scoffing, Squall lifted his face. "And risk the safety of this city?"

Seifer chuckled. "Distractions are meant to draw attention, which usually means a few blown up buildings."

Rolling his eyes, Squall laughed quietly. It was only amusing because he didn't doubt that the blond would actually do it.

They walked down yet another block, passing various shops and cafés on the way. Finally as they round the corner, they came to their destination. The store was hardly eye catching. One of many connected buildings along the street, there was a neon blue sign that displayed the name of the store.

A bell sounded as they walked through the main entrance. There were no customers, which was the first thing Squall noticed about the inside. As the door closed with a chime behind them the loud voices and cars from outside were droned down. Shelves and wracks of various clothes lined the walls.

Squall walked farther in, making his way to the counter. He didn't like clothing stores. Clothes were meant to be functional, not fashionable, and rarely both.

A woman came out of the back room. "I'm sorry we're closed for the day," she said from behind a tall stack of boxes.

Seifer glanced behind to the shops display window. Two mannequins were posed with as lifelike a structure as any plastic sculpture could have, donning matching clothes of jeans and sharp dress shirts. In front of the life-sized dolls was a sign. The side Seifer could see read 'open'. Naturally that meant the other side would read 'closed'. He hadn't even taken noticed.

"Lily Madison?" Squall asked, not caring that the store had been closed. He had read the sign before entering, but the door hadn't been locked and the lights were on.

The woman stopped abruptly before hastily setting the many boxes on the counter. Straightening up she turned to the two men. For a moment she forgot herself. A faint, humble blush came to her face when she recognized the clothes the commander and the clothes the slender man was wearing. The other young man looked familiar, but the name that came to mind wasn't likely. Perhaps he was just a model she'd seen at a few fashion shows.

Squall waited until the woman seemed to jolt from her slightly dreamy eyed look. She eventually gave a small nod. "Will you take me to see Rinoa?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

"O-of…. sure thing," Lily agreed after some hesitant stuttering.

TBC… I'm thinking Cabaret. Instead of money, reviews make the world go around. I can't sing like Judy Garland or Liza Minnelli, but I can give you yummy yaoi action if you give me a review.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Watchful Eyes

"Why didn't you just come here first?"

Squall regarded the ex-knight with a sidelong glance. "I doubt she would appreciate being cornered."

Having walked the darkening streets, they arrived outside of a massive building that rose high and stood out with a certain polished gleam in comparison to all other building in sight.

Seifer was last to enter through the revolving door into the Onyx Hotel. White and gold seemed to be the themes of the décor, at least for the lobby. White marble beneath their feet reflected the high arc of a ceiling, making the entire lobby look twice as big.

Squall frowned with distaste. The marble ionic pillars that were trimmed with gold made the place look more like some ballroom than the lobby of a hotel. He disliked such extravagance. An awed whistle sounded from the tall blond beside him.

"I bet it doesn't have a training center," Seifer commented, taking notice of Squall's displeasure. Fancy places weren't the little lion's style.

Smiling nervously, Lily commented, "There is a nice fitness center and the pools are nice. In the summer it's relaxing to use the one on the roof."

"Uh-huh," Seifer responded. As nice of a place as the Onyx Hotel was, it couldn't compare to Balamb Garden. While garden meals weren't delivered to lavish rooms, there was no place better for mercenaries.. Growing up on the shores of Centra there was nothing more soothing than the sound of the ocean, which made Balamb perfect

Seeing a lack of enthusiasm for the expensive hotel that had been her home for several years, Lily's smile faltered. Why were these people so different? Prior to her encounter with the SeeD members at her store, she'd never met one in person. It was unsettling how different they were from normal people. Perhaps the most disturbing feeling she had came each time she glanced at the commander. On TV, Squall Leonhart seemed distant and cold. Everyone called him an ice prince. She thought they were being unreasonable. After seeing those icy eyes up close, she reconsidered. The title was perfectly fitting.

In the elevator, Lily felt terribly uncomfortable. Leaning against the small rail, the shiny doors reflected the images of the two men nearby. Part of her wondered how Rinoa was able to date the commander. The raven-haired girl might have been pretty, but this aptly named ice prince, was the most beautiful person she'd ever seen. It was only by reminding herself that _he_ was a _man_ that she could know the fact. The tall man between them, who she still couldn't place, was intimidating to say the least. Intimidating not only for the broad structure and imposing posture, but because he was ridiculously attractive. They were not the type of people a woman like her met everyday.

While studying the blond's structured facial features as discretely as possible, Lily tried to recall who he was. It was impossible to misplace the man for anyone else. With what sense she managed to keep while in such close proximity of the other two, she knew that the commander was not likely to be walking around with some model. It also didn't seem likely that he'd be walking around with Ultimecia's knight by his side either. It was simply common sense that people didn't get along after trying to kill each other.

Seifer wanted to have a little fun and make the blushing store clerk squirm with embarrassment. He had a an array of comments he could use to give her a nosebleed. Smirking he settled on a comment involving her constant glances at Squall. "You know," he began, but ended with an exclamation of pain. Rubbing his arm, he huffed in defeat. "Fine," he muttered and leaned back against the bar. "Kill joy," he grumbled.

Perplexed, Lily glanced from one man to the other. Thanks to the reflecting elevator doors, she had seen the commander swiftly reach a hand to the tall blond and pinch his forearm. With the layers of clothing the tall one wore, she knew it couldn't have hurt nearly as bad as he'd made a fuss over. At the blond's incoherent mumbling she was shocked to see a small, amused grin form on the lips of the ice prince. Such people were so confusing. She was grateful when the elevator finally gave a ding, sounding their arrival.

Fifty stories up, they had arrived at the top.

Stepping from the elevator, Seifer scanned the short hallway. There was only one room on the entire floor.

Tucking a stray curl behind her ear, Lily sauntered before her guests with a frown. The first time she had toured the hotel she had been able to stop staring at every little shiny detail. Interior design might be the most masculine interest, but there was simply no appreciation in the commander's expression. Reaching in her purse, she extracted a key card from a small wallet. Swiping the key in the lock, she punched in the security code before a small beep sounded and she could twist the handle.

"Hey Rin!" Lily called out upon opening the door. Before a reply was giving she turned her head swiftly, long brown curls bouncing with the movement. Looking behind she gave a questioning look to the commander who followed closer.

"Is she here?" Squall asked. As if in response to his question, a distant voice greeted from within.

"What're you doing? I thought you were taking inventory," the familiar voice spoke more discernable this time.

Lily seemed unable to handle the suddenly tense situation and stood frozen in place. Taking charge, Squall stepped past her and walked inside the pent house. The first image Squall had of Rinoa was of the sorceress walking across the room with a small plastic bottle of juice held to her mouth. Apparently she'd taken a sip already since the moment her eyes fell to Squall the liquid sprayed out in front of her. Lucky for Squall he was still a good distance away.

For a moment Squall just stared. He had last seen his sorceress a month ago, but it felt much longer. She was still the same young woman as before. Different clothes and no weapon, but the same as ever. Dark brown eyes held a mixture of nervous fear and displeasure. All of it was for him, which hurt.

Frowning, Squall wondered why Rinoa didn't speak. Was it so shocking that he had shown up? "You left without a word," he finally stated, choosing to break the ice.

"Why is Seifer here?" Rinoa asked, unable to address the obvious issue at hand.

Squall wouldn't have given a second thought to the fact that Seifer was standing close behind himself if Rinoa hadn't mentioned it.

Lily moved to stand near Rinoa, all the while casting unsure glances at the tall blond. It would seem her unlikely suspicion was confirmed. "I'm sorry Rin, but they came in again and I let it slip."

"No, Lily, it's fine. I shouldn't have asked you to lie." Dark brown eyes looked at Lily apologetically. "Can you give us some time?" she asked, shifting her eyes in gesture to Squall.

"I should be at the store anyway. Will you be okay?" She cast another unsure glance in the direction of the two men standing by each other.

"I'll be fine." Rinoa placed an assuring squeeze to the manager's arm.

Swiftly, Lily made her exit. She had no place in that room, at least not at the moment. Perhaps in a slightly too hasty exit, the door shut rather loudly behind her.

Seifer grinned at the echoing shut of the door. It was always amusing to watch how flustered some people could became around him or Squall. When the shorter swordsman standing right in front of him turned back and gave him a look of expectancy, he shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere. Lover's quarrel or no, I stay." His affirmation left no room for argument. His words were hissed out too low for the raven-haired princess to hear.

Hands on her hips, Rinoa continued to ignore more pertinent issues. "Did you really have to corner Lily like that? She's stressed out enough as it is with inventory week and all."

Rolling his green eyes, Seifer scoffed.

"I thought you would have liked to have her with you when I came," Squall explained. He wasn't sure why, but having a friend nearby seemed to calm other people down and make them feel more at ease.

"Why are you here?" Rinoa finally managed to confront the topic, but with all the grace of a drunken child having just consumed alcohol for the first time. She was untactful in her haste to get it over with.

"I was worried." Furrowing his eyebrows, Squall reexamined the past month to make sure he hadn't missed something. Why wouldn't he have come?

"You were worried? Squall, I can take care of myself. I don't need to be babysat." Stating the obvious was just her way of expressing simmering anger.

Now Squall really felt like he was missing something. In slight desperation, never confident in matters of relationships, he glanced up at Seifer. He had never had girl troubles before. His relationship with Rinoa hadn't hit rocky grounds prior to her sudden disappearance, so he was confused.

Seifer shrugged. "I don't have a damn clue where she's coming from."

Dark eyes narrowed in insult. "What is Seifer doing here?" Rinoa asked demandingly.

Squall was still unsatisfied with Rinoa's previous comments, so he chose to ignore her questions about Seifer. "Rinoa," he started, rather sure that his reasoning behind it all was correct since everyone else had seemed to agree with his feelings of concern, "you disappeared almost a month ago with no notice or word of your whereabouts. I'm not in the business of babysitting, and haven't ever tried to do so."

Rinoa's hands remained on her hips while she stared indignantly.

Squall's own agitation flared. "I have, however, had eight separate squadrons deployed in search for you since you first left." He waited for some sign of understanding. "You do know that you didn't tell anybody you were leaving, right?"

"Yes," Rinoa said incredulously with the same insulted tone. "I'm allowed to leave when I want."

"I know that. I've never kept you there." In fact, Rinoa had spent most her time away from Balamb Garden. Squall had made many trips to visit her elsewhere. "Rinoa, what exactly is going on?" Running steady hand through his dark brown hair, he stepped towards her. Her guard seemed to fall, her entire demeanor changing. The anger fled from her eyes and was replaced with watery tears. "Rinoa?" he asked with concern.

"Please, leave!" Rinoa cried harshly.

"Rinoa?" Squall persisted, stopping in his progress towards her.

"I love you so much, but I can't be with you anymore. I'm sorry about just leaving like that, but I couldn't stand it any longer." A few tears escaped and ran down her cheeks.

Blue-grey eyes searched the young woman's for a moment. There was nothing but truth in those brown eyes. Unable to refuse her request, Squall turned and walked away. He had been right. Rinoa had left him for the sake of breaking up. Though he didn't understand where she was coming from, it didn't matter. It was over even if he didn't have a clue why.

Seifer remained even after Squall walked passed him. The pretty boy could handle himself while he had a few words with the little miss dramatics. "What the fuck was that?" he bit out harshly, surprising the girl.

"Seifer, you need to leave too," Rinoa said, wiping her cheeks roughly.

Narrowing his green eyes, Seifer glared at the crying princess. "Like hell I gotta do a damn thing you tell me to." Thinking on her words, he tried to reason her meaning behind it all. "Why couldn't you be with him any longer?" he asked.

Sniffing, she indulged the stubborn knight, knowing she'd never get rid of him. "Because he is a goddamn ice prince!" she yelled.

Clenching his jaw, Seifer refrained from acting rashly. "So you couldn't handle it," he spat in mock sympathy.

"I'm the same as the rest of them. He never treated me any differently." Rinoa searched Seifer's eyes for some flicker understanding. Seeing none, she felt more hot tears prick her eyes, "I'm not his damn orphan buddy! I was his girlfriend!"

Seifer remained impassive and uncaring. His lips pressed to a thin line.

"I tried, I really did. I still love him, but it's been killing me. He never touched me, not once."

This made Seifer raise his eyebrows. He wondered how much time he had before Squall stormed back in and retrieved him. "Oh?" he remarked disbelievingly.

"I mean," she faltered, not having expected to find herself pouring her heart out to Seifer of all people. "We never made love. I don't think he could. I thought it would be different. He seemed to open up to me when it all ended… but I slowly realized that he had nothing to offer." A sob wracked her small frame.

With distain, Seifer looked down on her. "You're the same sixteen year old brat I met before." Sneering, he decided that she deserved a little enlightenment. "Squall is perhaps the most emotional person I've ever known, and that includes you and the messenger girl. You have no idea how much he cares for you. You have no idea how worried he's been. He hasn't slept or eaten properly up until a couple days ago." Seeing the disbelieving look on her face he pressed on, "Eight fucking search parties out looking for you, and you say he doesn't care. Not only was he worried, but everyone else was too. You can go wherever you want, but be an adult about it. This isn't your daddy you're dealing with. If you pull this kind of shit, don't expect a warm welcome afterwards. I personally would love an excuse to knock you on your ass." He let his eyes pierce the abashed girl who was too shocked for words. Generally he didn't like to hit a woman, but she was a sorceress who had just pissed him off, so if provoked, he'd be hard pressed to find any restraint.

Before he stalked out, Seifer felt inclined to say more. It was his habit to say all his peace before leaving. "If you come back around, you'd better be prepared to apologize to every damn SeeD who was out there looking for your sorry ass. And, Squall is off limits. Remember you just dumped him, now he's mine." He generally knew when he was done by the way someone's jaw would drop. Watching Rinoa's mouth gape open in struggling shock was his cue.

To Seifer's surprise, Squall had waited for him. Casually leaning against the wall beside the elevator with his arms crossed at his chest.

"Squall," the blond began, but stopped when the rejected lion shook his head in a defeated manner. Choosing not to finish his sentence, he walked forward and pressed the down button. As they waited for the elevator's arrival, he ruffled silky brown hair.

It had been oddly comforting to wait in silence for Seifer to come out of the hotel room. Though Squall didn't want to know what the blond had said, he was certain it was everything he had been thinking. Not wanting to speak about it, he had shaken his head at his rival's attempt to vocalize any part of it. Instead, the insistent knight settled for messing his hair up again. This too was oddly comforting.

Seifer was able to give Squall tacitly requested silence for about five minutes, but he was too impatient to wait any longer. "Did you love her?" he blurted out as they exited the hotel.

Stopping his tracks, Squall looked at the blond incredulously, as though the answer were obvious. After a moment, his eyes dimmed and seemed to lose their focus as a silent conversation was held in his head.

"Of all my amazing abilities, mind reading isn't one of them," Seifer chastised.

"I don't know," Squall muttered, looking away.

In a very unusual act, Seifer let the matter drop. If he took Squall's meaning, then he really shouldn't be pestering the confused brunet. The little lion would have to sort through jumbled thoughts and mixed feelings first.

The pair walked through the busy streets much like before with the crowd seeming to grow around them.

"Where are we heading?" Seifer asked, noticing that Squall seemed to be heading back to the shoreline.

"Back to the ship," Squall answered distantly.

"Oh no we're not," Seifer opposed, slowing down and placing a hand on the brunet's upper arm. "You gave those two the night off. You can't just call them back like that. Besides, when was the last time you went out and enjoyed yourself?" he asked with a wolfish grin.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Squall sighed. "If you're turning this into a night of partying then you-"

"Naw, you aren't the party boy type, sweet cheeks," Seifer cut him off.

Glaring at the arbitrary nickname that the knight called him by, Squall recalled that this wasn't the first time he'd been referred to as such.

"Let's get some dinner," Seifer suggested, though his tone didn't imply the matter as optional.

Squall looked at the blond hesitantly. There was no good reason to refuse the suggestion.

Seeing the obvious lack of excuses, Seifer grabbed the opportunity. "Come on, I know a nice, quiet place."

At the mentioning of a quiet place to go to, Squall caved a little. The next thing he knew, the blond was directing him across the street with a firm hand at his back. Before he could protest the hand's presence, it was dropped. Stepping up from the road and back onto the sidewalk, Squall followed Seifer. The older boy seemed to know where he was heading.

A flickering street light caught Squall's attention as they walked down a slightly less populated street. The air felt far colder now that night had settled in completely. A chill danced along his spine in an unpleasant manner. Stopping, he looked to the tall buildings around them. It was mostly apartment buildings. Many of the widows were brightly lit and some held shadows of the occupants moving within. He had no idea what he was looking for.

"Squall?" Seifer called back, watching the brunet look around the street as if searching for something.

Not replying, Squall shook his head and closed the short distance that had formed between the two of them. It might have just been the cold weather, but he doubted that. A couple more blocks, and his hands and nose were feeling frozen. Though he wanted to ask how much further they had to go, he wouldn't voice complaint.

"We're almost there," Seifer stated.

Again, Squall felt the same chill run up his backside while the hairs on his neck stood. This being the second time, he couldn't brush it off as nothing. His instincts were telling him something. Stopping again, he looked about, not caring whether it was an obvious give away that he knew someone was watching.

A rather loud car engine sounded as it sped by. The noise broke Squall's concentration and brought him back to find Seifer staring at him intently. At the blond's raised eyebrows, he said, "It feels like someone's watching."

A stern look came over Seifer's features as he stepped towards the brunet and again ushered the smaller man to move. With his right hand near Hyperion's hilt, he settled his other arm around slim shoulders. When Squall looked ready to protest, he gave the small shoulders a firm squeeze and kept walking.

TBC…


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Sweet and Sour Moods

The Harold sounded like some newspaper rather than a bar. Seifer had lead the way to a back alley that was vacant of people but well populated in stray cats and howling dogs. It seemed a dog was barking in the distance every few seconds. Apparently the upkeep of this part of the city was not a priority, as potholes marred the road and litter filled the gutters.

Standing on the sidewalk, Squall looked up at the old building. Situated right on the corner, the front entrance was cattycornered at the top of a small stoop. The Harold was composed of crumbling stone blocks, and he placed it to be at least a hundred years old. Squall was no historian, but he had a fair sense of all the places he'd traveled to. Seifer had taken him to the old industrial area of Dollet. These buildings, which were former factories, were now apartments and abandoned lots. The Harold didn't look any better for its age, and Squall couldn't help but give the tall blond a puzzled look.

"It doesn't look like much, but trust me, this is the best place to eat in this city." Seifer clapped the brunet on the back while stepping swiftly up the stairs.

Squall waited a moment, looking down either side of the street. Though he didn't feel as though anyone were watching, he couldn't shake the feeling he'd had earlier. Considering his previous disposition that he wasn't in any danger, he was feeling uneasy now. Still, for anyone to try anything with him _and_ Seifer would be suicide. Sighing, he followed the eager man as he swept through the door.

Closing the thick wooden door with a thud, Squall was met with a warm rush of air. It was either colder outside than he'd thought or extremely warm inside the bar. The door had led into a small alcove, and Seifer blocked most of Squall's view of the rest of the place.

Attempting to peer over a broad shoulder, Squall sidled up beside the tall man. It was no use. This was perhaps one of many times that he cursed his rival for being bigger than he was.

Striding confidently, Seifer moved away from the small entryway, secretly amused at his ability to block the commander's view. Calling out in a loud baritone voice, he greeted, "Mike, you old bastard!"

Wanting to clap a hand his forehead at the cocky man's disturbing display, Squall settled for falling back in hopes that he wouldn't be associated with such an idiot.

From behind the bar, an older man set down a pint glass with a hard chink. Lowering the drying towel he'd been using, he frowned in their direction. The man had graying hair that had once been black. It was short and combed back, holding its place naturally. With a bit more than a five o'clock shadow gracing a firm square jaw, the man grinned. "Almasy, you little shit!" he called out just as loudly as Seifer had.

The barman, who Squall assumed to be Mike, walked around the long counter and made his way over to them. Not much taller than himself, the man was rather burly. Wearing a dark red long sleeve shirt and black slacks, he swung the rag over a shoulder as he approached.

Seifer and Mike clapped hands and pulled each other in for a one armed hug, while Squall observed in a state of slight confusion over the amicable greeting. The barman was laughing and still had a grin on his face, as though seeing Seifer were truly a pleasure.

"I haven't seen your ugly face around here in a while," the older man said.

"You have that effect on people," Seifer shot back.

"So, what brings you here?" There was a slightly more serious tone to the man's voice at this.

Winking, the blond assured, "Purely a social visit." Standing aside slightly, he moved to let Mike see the smaller brunet.

Dark blue eyes widened briefly, studying the knight's new friend. "Got yourself a little princess there, have you?" he joked.

Holding in a laugh at this, Seifer couldn't have appreciated Mike's bluntness more. There was nothing Squall would do to Mike for his words, so it was like a free jab show at the commander.

Scowling, Squall glared at Seifer.

With a gulp, Seifer realized that whatever Squall wouldn't do to Mike would be done to him instead. "Hey now Mike, that's Commander Leonhart you're talking about."

The barman's eyes widened again. "I thought you looked a mite familiar." Extending a hand, he said, "Michael Garrant. I own this joint and have been known to do some business with vagrants like this one." He nodded towards Seifer.

Waiting for a reluctant moment, Squall took the stout man's offered hand. "Squall Leonhart," he replied. A surprised grunt was forced out of him as the zealous man pulled him in and gave him a similar hugged greeting as he had to Seifer. The arm that wrapped around him momentarily patted his back a bit too harshly and stung for a few moments afterwards. Scowling again, Squall sent yet another glare Seifer's way once he was released from the rough hold.

While Mike made his way back behind the bar, Seifer took his coat off and draped it over his arm. Casting a look down at the sullen brunet, he spoke, "Don't get pissy, it's just his way."

Not answering, Squall was still a little sore about being called a princess by a stranger. Seifer had called him worse before, but he was used to the blond's taunts.

"Take your coat off, or you'll over heat. This place is always like a sauna." Seifer's lips formed a small grin as he watched the younger man comply. "Mike doesn't care much for worldly affairs, so he's not likely to recognize anybody from the news. You might like that about him." He raised his eyebrows in emphasis when the brunet continued to sulk.

In truth, Squall was lucky if he could find a single person who didn't know his blood type let alone that he was the commander of an entire garden. Even if he generally chose to shun all people regardless of whom they were, Seifer had a point.

Seeing blue-grey eyes shift towards the bar in mild curiosity, Seifer grinned more widely. "His best and worst quality is that he says exactly what he's thinking. You might hate him, but you'll come to love him." He chuckled when the brunet looked right at him and seemed to roll his eyes without actually doing so.

Looking around Squall found the place to be more of a small restaurant, even with the many bottles of various alcoholic drinks lining the wall behind the bar. Round tables filled the spacious room with a few occupants eating meals or drinking. Most of those people hadn't stirred the slightest at the raucous interruption.

Following Seifer to a table farthest away from the other patrons, Squall set his jacket on the back of a bare wooden chair before sitting down. Everything from the bar to the floor to all the chairs and tables was wood, old and worn. It was unusually old fashioned, but he was hardly complaining. Such a setting suited his tastes far better than the lavish Onyx Hotel.

The lighting was slightly dim, leaving many shadows along the walls. Mike had vanished into the backroom, which Squall glimpsed to be a kitchen before the swinging door settled shut. There was the faint aroma of seafood in the air. It wasn't a fishy scent, more along the lines of sautéing scallops or shrimp. It was pleasant and even managed to arouse Squall's appetite. It had been a long time since he had actually thought of eating a meal for more than its nutritional purposes.

Leaning back, Seifer stretched his long limbs out and settled in comfortably. The Harold was one of his favorite places to relax. It had been a chance-find. Just when he had felt at his wits end, always finding someone who recognized him, he had wandered in and met Mike. The older man had been clueless as to who he was, even when he had donned his trademark blue vested shirt and long grey trench coat. Even when the man had eventually learned who he was, it hadn't changed anything. In fact, the only comment the barman had made was that he was an idiot to complain about being recognized while wearing his telltale trench coat.

When the scent of food wafted their way, Seifer smirked. "I think he's making coconut shrimp. Lucky bastard, it's for you."

Quirking a brow, Squall leaned back more comfortably with his arms crossed. He had no idea what the blond was talking about.

Feeling indulgent, Seifer explained, "You can't order food here. Mike makes what he chooses for each person and brings it to you. It's like one of those psychic ability things, I swear. I've been after him to let me try his coconut shrimp but he refuses. It's apparently too sweet for my tastes." He scoffed at the notion of anyone telling him he couldn't have something, all the while resigned to not getting it.

The concept was rather intriguing. Squall tilted his head to the side in thought. He wondered if the barman would have made Zell hotdogs. It might be worth another trip just to test the man. "What is this place exactly?" he asked, still not sure how to classify it.

Looking around for a moment, Seifer nodded, "My guess is as good as yours. It's a bar, a café, and a restaurant all in one. I'm still surprised that hardly anyone comes here." It was rather small considering the services offered.

"Nnh," Squall sounded in agreeing observation. He rather liked that it was quiet with no mulling crowds.

"It's nice though. Like I said earlier, a quiet place," Seifer commented.

"…"

Eyeing the brunet across from him, Seifer saw the telltale signs of retreat. The commander was going to close himself off and brood silently over the recent break up. Clenching his jaw, Seifer decided that it wasn't a good idea. From what he could tell, Squall was more than dysfunctional in the relationship department. If the moody fighter started brooding, all the wrong conclusions would be made.

Not wanting to be obvious, Seifer broached another subject, hoping to instigate some interest and hold the attention of the ice prince. "Do you think we'll make the front cover of every newspaper and magazine by morning?"

It took a moment for Squall to process Seifer's words, his mind had been wandering elsewhere. "I don't see why."

"Come on Squally-boy, we aren't exactly a likely pair to be walking down the busy streets of Dollet in full view of the public's eyes." His frame straightened slightly and shifted forward to the table a little, showing that he was open for conversation.

"I don't see how that matters." Squall's reply was automatic, but he regretted it as Seifer's green eyes narrowed in disapproval.

"You should. I'm hardly a warmly spoken household name." Huffing Seifer felt resigned to reeducating the brunet in the social etiquette. It was one of the hero's faults. Unable to relate to other's, the commander was oblivious to the world outside of fighting.

Squall simply shrugged. He didn't see why the opinion of other's should matter. His only concern was doing his job. The only opinions or feelings that mattered were his own and those of his close friends, and perhaps even the rival he was currently seated across from.

Grunting in disapproval, Seifer chastised, "You forgive and forget too easily. Does nothing I've done matter to you?" It almost seemed like he was intentionally trying to anger the commander.

Frowning, Squall unfolded his arms and sat forward slightly. Pushing aside his annoyance, he held his tongue for a moment as he tried to figure out what the blond was really feeling. Was it guilt? It almost seemed like Seifer wanted some sort of punishment for his past deeds and was angry that he didn't seem to hold a grudge. Scowling, he felt as though the arrogant man were trying to entwine hidden feelings into some half assed lecture about being concerned with what the public thought. Narrowing his blue-grey eyes, he hissed out, "I would have thought the last sixth months was enough wallowing in the past for you."

Stricken by the sudden statement, Seifer's eyes widened slightly and his jaw unclenched.

"Amen to that, princess," spoke a gruff voice from beside their table. Mike set two plates down before either person. "I've been telling him to get over it for months now. We all have a past, but only the weak can't move on."

Seifer's mood darkened. He sat back and slouched in annoyance.

Mike smiled brightly at the pretty boy commander. "Sweet and salty pasta with coconut shrimp for the princess, and pizza with red peppers for the wallowing knight."

Cringing at the nickname, Squall ignored the twitch his hand gave in desire pull Lionheart out. "You made this just now?" he asked with an even tone.

"I had a feeling an odd pair would show up. I had it going before you stepped in here," the barman answered, clapping Squall on the back. "I like you kid, you're easy on the eyes."

Unable to suppress a groan, which actually came out as more a growl, Squall had to ball his fist and pocket to resist using his gunblade. Worse than the wildly inappropriate comments was the involuntary blush he felt heat his cheeks. Whether from anger or embarrassment, he wasn't sure.

"Feisty, eh?" the older man jibed as he walked away to a gesturing patron across the room.

While the small pizza before him was calling his name, Seifer refused to budge. Inwardly he had been snickering at Mike's nickname for Squall. Not even he could have predicted such a good one. He was still angry at the brunet's accusation and the old man's agreement though. He wasn't stuck in the past. It just irked him how Squall acted as though none of it happened.

Through his angry haze, Seifer watched with interest as Squall reached forward and sampled a piece of shrimp. He really had been after Mike to let him try some. It seemed like he made it for everybody else except him. As if the process worked vicariously, Seifer followed each movement of the stubborn pretty boy across from him. He didn't think it was possible, but as he had noticed at dinner the other night, Squall even managed to eat with unnatural grace.

Gulping, Seifer couldn't help but find the entire display completely sensual. Pout lips parted to smoothly place the battered food within. Delicate fingers held the tail end and pulled away after taking a bite. Seifer could feel his mouth water and swore he tasted something sweet, but feared it wasn't the taste of the food he was imagining. Had he not been so fascinated with the commander's mouth, he would have missed the subtle smile that played across soft lips. Apparently, the food was to his rival's liking.

"Are you going to eat?" Squall asked, feeling the all too intense gaze of those jade-green eyes.

Snapping from his momentary trance, Seifer remembered that he was supposed to be angry. The only trouble was, he couldn't seem to muster any anger when all he felt was arousal. Reaching out he picked up a slice of the pizza. Before he took a bite he asked, "How can it not matter?"

Twisting a fork within the thankfully small portion of noodles, Squall didn't bother looking up at Seifer when answering. "Matron spent her whole life in preparation against the powers of a sorceress. Even though she probably had the strongest will against it, she fell under Ultimecia's control easily." He paused in spinning the slippery pasta, this time he did look up at the blond. "I know you said you were fully aware. I don't doubt that. But when someone whispers sweet nothings in your ear and seems to hold the key to all you've ever wanted, it's a little hard to not go along willingly."

Staring at the serious expression on the brunet's face, Seifer couldn't help but believe the words were true and fitting. However, after six months of his own reflections, he found it difficult to believe that all could be so easily forgiven. One event weighed more heavily on his mind than the rest. "I tortured you"

Setting his fork down, Squall kept his face impassive and hid all reaction to the sudden statement. "It was war," he stated flatly. He well remembered the damn electric shock treatment and didn't care to dwell on it.

"And what is it now?" Seifer asked, unable to comprehend how the serious man could keep such an even face. He felt like cringing just thinking about it, and he hadn't been the one to experience it.

"Now it's a time of peace, where business is dry for gardens, but the rest of the world smiles and carries on." Slight annoyance crept into his tone, and he fingered the handle of his forgotten fork.

Seifer watched as his rival sampled the pasta, leaving him in the dark in regards to what it tasted like. He had been so easily forgiven. Sighing, he conceded to Squall's will. With a small shake of his head, he refuted all conclusions that the commander was an ice prince. An amused smirk played across his face as he saw a small glimmer of the sauce on enticing lips. In a bold move, he reached across the table and thumbed the sauce.

Tensing, Squall stared at Seifer in shock. The blond's fingers brushed under his jaw while a thumb gently swiped at his bottom lip. A familiar feeling began to rise, more recognizable for the desire that it was.

"We were rivals and enemies before." Seifer let his hand linger for a moment, just long enough to bring a flush to pale cheeks. Slowly retracting his hand, he licked his thumb and tasted the sauce. "What are we now?" he asked. His voice was slightly deeper than normal.

At a loss for words, Squall was grateful for the first time to have the older barman speak to him.

"Come on now princess, you gotta eat more than that. You'll waste away to nothing," Mike called as he strode up to the pair. Ignoring the intimate atmosphere, he dragged a chair up and joined them. It wasn't everyday he had such accomplished patrons to entertain him. With the customers dwindling and the few remaining taken care of, he felt in the mood for a good story.

For the most part, Mike and Seifer talked back and forth, swapping stories and trying to outdo each other. Squall suddenly found himself unable to concentrate on anything but what the blond had hinted at before. Luckily, it wasn't odd for him to remain silent, since he didn't think he could string two words together with his mind forming terribly outrageous conclusions.

It was slightly bothersome to watch the tanned knight carry on as though none of it happened. One moment those green eyes were dark with the same gleam they had taken on when the blond had jumped him in the apartment, and the next they were dancing with laughter as the barman told a funny joke. And here he was, unable to think about anything else but the embarrassing desire to be kissing his childhood rival again. Where exactly did this sudden attraction come from?

Perhaps the most flustering part was the suddenly flippant trait he'd developed. Whether or not Squall had been truly in love with Rinoa was something he still couldn't determine. Regardless, he'd been involved with one person, supposedly harboring desires and feelings for them, and the next he was changing it all to another person. Though his feelings for Rinoa were nothing like what he beginning to feel for Seifer, he still didn't like it.

Through his silent battle Squall had managed to eat his meal and sit still while quietly sulking. It was beyond maddening to not understand what he was trying so hard to analyze. It was then he noticed the sudden silence. Gazing up he found the two men looking at him. Groaning inwardly, he ventured a guess that they'd asked him something. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Seifer was telling me about how he saved you from drowning one time. Says, he pulled you from under the water and gave you CPR." Mike laughed. "You went in on a dare even though you couldn't swim."

Glaring at Seifer, Squall corrected, "As I recall, I didn't need saving. I've always been able to swim, but this jackass was the one to dare me in the first place and couldn't stand to lose, so he ran in before I could make all the way to the marker and dragged me back out."

Mike doubled over with rich laughter. He was rather certain the brunet's account of the story was more accurate. "I can just picture it," he slapped his knee and continued to laugh at Seifer's expense.

Squall stared in question. He didn't see what was so funny about it. When it happened, he had been royally pissed.

"Yeah, well you _looked_ like you were drowning," Seifer commented in his own defense.

Rolling his eyes, Squall scoffed. "And I suppose my yelling for you to stop didn't clue you in."

"You didn't yell," Seifer countered, leaning forward slightly.

"Matron punished me for all the curses I threw at you." Squall leaned forward in a reflected action of the blond across from himself. All previous thoughts and confusions were gone from his head as he argued with the stubborn knight.

Resting a forearm down on the tabletop, Seifer leaned closer. "You were choking on water."

Again, mimicking the blond's moves, Squall leaned in. "Only because I was so busy telling you I was fine while you dragged through the waves."

Mike had stopped laughing as soon as the arguing started. Now he just looked from one face to the other. Both boys were just staring at each other.

"Well, you needed help after that." Seifer waved a hand as if he won by admitting that while he caused the problem in the first place, he had still managed to save the day.

"A pat on the back would have sufficed. Instead you made it worse and tried to suffocate me on top of the water in my lungs." With the slight headshake he gave, choppy bangs fell to shroud his eyes.

"That was CPR," the blond defended again, refusing to admit that he was wrong.

"That was you trying to suffocate me with your mouth," the brunet shot right back incredulously.

Suddenly Seifer sat back and grinned widely. "Actually, that was me kissing you on a dare from the cowboy."

Having been ready to shoot down whatever excuse Seifer gave, Squall had his mouth open before he even knew what words he was going to say. Not having the countering side to go against, he was lost for a moment. He was saved again, from having to find the proper words to express himself.

Mike very nearly toppled the table when he slammed his fist down and roared with laughter. Between breaths he managed to choke out, "You two are great! A fucking riot!"

While Seifer grinned as though he had won by some default of secret information kept over the years, Squall crossed his arms and sat back in a sulk.

Wiping tears from his eyes, the older man stood up and clapped the two on their shoulders. The force made them both jolt slightly forward before correcting themselves. "Damn I needed that." Reaching out, he picked their plates up. "The spare room is all yours good sir knight, though a mite cramped for two. Princess here doesn't look like he'll take up much room." With that he walked off with a few more chuckles.

Scratching his head, Seifer faced the consequences of his admittance. "It was ten years ago," he reminded.

Bowing his head, Squall didn't look at Seifer. "We're staying here?" he asked.

"It was a childish dare. Come on," Seifer jokingly pleaded.

Looking up, Squall met the knight with narrowed grey-blue eyes. "You're sleeping on the floor."

"Come on, princess, share a little," the blond complained. The use of Squall's new nickname earned him a harsh kick to his shins, his mock whining cut short.

TBC… Please review… remember, impotent Seifer means the next chapter has no fun…


	16. Chapter 16

**Warning: **This chapter contains graphic sexual content.

Chapter Sixteen

Strong Desires and Cries of Pleasure

The short debate over the correct happenings on the sandy beach near the orphanage so many years ago had eased Squall's troubled mind. His obsessed focus had been shattered as soon as his anger had flared. It was more of an amused anger, hardly malicious. His amusement had been over the distorted memories of the cocky blond.

Squall was still miffed about the little secret. It had been his first summer in Centra and his rivalry with Seifer had just begun to bloom, hence the bet and his defensive acceptance. If any other person had wagered that he couldn't swim out a hundred meters and back, he wouldn't have cared, but youthful green eyes had stirred something in him. He had stalked off into the waves mumbling under his breath.

Now all these years later Squall learned that the entire scenario had masked a different bet. Irvine would be paying for more than that previous overreaction outside his apartment. In truth, he didn't really care. Childish pranks were forgotten easily. He probably would have been less aggravated had Irvine and Seifer confessed after he had been dragged from the water. It was funny how his pride worked.

Dinner finished, it was time to turn in for the night.

The motley pair climbed the narrow stairs to the second floor. The wooden steps creaked under every footfall.

It wasn't until nearing the top of the long set of steps that Squall felt an intense gaze upon himself. This being the second time he felt those jade eyes staring at him, he was compelled to speak up. "Why are you staring at me?" Even though he hadn't turned around to actually catch the blond in the act, the feeling was unmistakable. It was nothing like the unsettling chills his body had felt earlier on the streets, but a fluttering heat in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm not," Seifer stated truthfully. With an impish grin that the brunet couldn't see, he admitted, "I'm checking you out."

The slight faltering of his step was his only reaction, as Squall scowled and continued climbing upward. Seifer was enjoying throwing him off guard. Cursing the blond, who followed rather closely, he tried to ignore the man's presence. Unexpectedly, his wrist was suddenly grasped.

Reaching out, Seifer grabbed hold of the brunet's swaying wrist. The movement was stiff as constant indecision plagued his mind. So soon after the end of the only relationship the asocial commander had ever had, and he could think of nothing but claiming those soft lips once again. Ignoring his urges and lustful thoughts throughout dinner had been a struggle and he doubted his ability to share a bedroom without having his perverted way with the younger man, willing or otherwise.

Seifer's fingers easily wrapped around the commander's slender wrist, begging the question of how the fighter managed to hold a heavy gunblade steady. He noted the contrast of their skin.

Squall tensed up at the contact, but he didn't pull away. Turning, he faced the blond on the stairs.

For a long moment Seifer stared at the lax hand in his grip, studying delicate fingers with innocent curiosity. Not thinking, he reached his other hand out, still holding his trench coat in the crook of his elbow, and touched the fingers he studied. They twitched, but still the brunet didn't pull away. Considering the type of person Squall was, no outright refusal was the most permission he was going to get.

Squall furrowed his brows in confusion and stared curiously at the bowed head of the blond. The older boy wasn't looking up at him, but seemed fascinated by his hand for some reason. When the ex-knight began to run fingertips over his palm and down his fingers an involuntary shiver wracked his whole body.

Noticing the shiver the brunet gave, Seifer had to force himself not to look up. If he looked up, then he might lose what little control he had left. Instead he tried to focus on the soft hand in his hold. It didn't seem possible for Squall's skin to be so soft. Where were the roughened calluses from so many years of swinging a gunblade? And it was such a small hand. He spread the relaxed hand out with his own on top of it. He examined the size difference. His longer and wider fingers dwarfed the brunet's. "You bite your nails," he observed aloud.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Squall fought the cloudy fog taking over his brain. He should pull his hand back. Unable to do so, he settled for commenting in a tone that didn't seem riddled with lust, "Only when Quistis steals all my pens."

Vaguely, Seifer remembered that his short daydream of Squall biting on pens was actually true. Ignoring the tone the brunet held, he moved again on impulse. Bringing the seemingly fragile hand closer, he tentatively took the index finger in his mouth and mimicked the same sort of sucking or biting the brunet would have done to the same appendage.

Startled, Squall couldn't help the sudden cry he gave out at the blond's odd actions.

Abruptly, Seifer released the commander's hand and finally looked up with an odd glint to his green eyes. Heart in his throat, he wondered if he had just imagined Squall's cry. "Say it again," he demanded, stepping up and overcrowding the brunet on the same stair.

Haze lifting, Squall leaned back as far as he could without falling over or stepping away. "Say what?" he asked, not knowing that he had uttered any intelligible words.

Swallowing thickly, Seifer briefly closed his eyes and recalled the voice the brunet had called his name out in. His blood was rushing south, making his cock twitch. Needing to hear it again, he demanded, "Call out my name again."

With his heart racing, Squall fought for control. Just a few minutes ago he had been resolved to ignore that anything had happened between them, which he had assumed the blond had already done. He had decided it was best to not act until he was able to understand it all. The insufferable ex-knight was making it impossible to do so. "S-Seifer," he said, warily placing his hands against the blond's broad chest. He tried to distance himself without losing ground, but he was more likely to fall backwards or simply throw himself at his rival.

Consumed by so many lustful thoughts running rampant in his head, Seifer felt the last thread of control slip away. It was too much to handle, so much want and desire, the likes of which he was not used to. He was too close for the commander to have any leverage in pushing him away. Should the timid brunet retreat, there was no place to run that he couldn't follow.

Seifer's arm smoothly wrapped around the smaller man's slim waist. The hands that had feebly warned him to keep his distance now clutched his shirt in apprehension. It was obvious Squall felt just as he did, but the brunet had no idea how to deal with it. For the first time since dinner, he looked into those clouded eyes of the confused man who was pressed closely to him. Noticeably bluer than usual, they were clouded with lust and a longing that he knew his own eyes mirrored.

Squall desperately tried to make his body obey the quickly waning reason he had, which told him to move and back away. He knew his time for clear reasoning was short as the blond leaned forward with darkened green eyes that never left his own. His breath hitched when he realized that there was something hard pressing against his abdomen and it was most certainly not Hyperion's hilt.

The sensation of Squall's lips was still completely foreign to Seifer. Relishing the softness briefly, he impatiently moved to deepen the kiss. There was too much that his hands wanted to do to the lithe body in his hold. If he lost all control, they would both toppled down the long flight of unpadded steps. He settled for plunging harshly into the warm mouth that tasted of a sweet coconut flavor.

"Nngh." Squall was quickly losing all his senses. He was unable to give voice to even a single word. His knees were going to give way and he was slowly, but pleasurably suffocating. Trying to keep up with the rough and desperate movements of the blond was not possible. Seifer's tongue invaded his mouth with such a harsh force that he could scarcely return any of it with matched fervor. Always up for a challenge, he tried. His own tongue moved against Seifer's. The slick muscle of another roughly gyrating in his mouth was a foreign feel that he didn't think he would ever get used to.

Their lips were crushed mercilessly, they both tried to deepen the kiss as much as possible. Slowly, as Seifer seemed to realize that the brunet wasn't going anywhere, he softened his rough handling and slowed the pace.

As the blond slowed and pulled back enough to gently bite his bottom lip, a small moan left Squall's throat. The arm around his waist tightened and a hand moved to his hair and tugged his head back slightly. The slight change in angle seemed to be the blond's cue for resuming their previous pace. He was beyond spent. With no breath left to give, his hands tightened their grip on the knight's shirt.

Reading the younger man's desperation, Seifer reluctantly pulled back. Breathing heavily, he steadied the other's smaller frame when it lost all tension and leaned against him heavily. The needy grip on his shirt did not relent, something he found terribly satisfying. Looking down, he relished the unguarded and subdued manner in which the brunet recovered from their kiss. His hand was still angling the commander's head back while those blue eyes remained shut tightly. Swollen lips were parted as the dazed kitten panted desperately for air, heated breaths taken in quick and uneven succession.

Seifer was a rather practiced kisser, having worked on his skills from a young age. It was obvious that Squall was not used to the act, though that didn't stop the brunet from trying and doing a fair better job than he would have thought possible. With an unfulfilled longing, he realized it didn't matter whether Squall had been the worst kisser in the world, because it still would have been the most arousing experience he had ever had.

Patience had never been one of Seifer's many good qualities. It was painstakingly difficult for him to not continue kissing the brunet senseless, until the poor little lion lost consciousness. In compensation for no longer being able to claim enticing lips, he focused his desires elsewhere. Letting go of the dazed man's silky hair, he instead held a narrow chin and directed his rival's head to the side, exposing a slender neck.

To heighten his sense of taste, Seifer breathed in deeply while nuzzling the crook of neck and shoulder. Longish strands of hair brushed his upturned ear, tickling a little, but not enough to distract him. He couldn't place the scent. It wasn't like anything he'd smelled before. Desire mounting, he couldn't help but hold the lithe form tightly and do what he felt like.

Savoring the moment, all too afraid that it would be another dream where he reached forward but grasped air, Seifer kissed along the slender neck. The commander's skin was smooth against his lips and tasted almost sweet against his tongue. The form in his arms trembled. As he moved higher, the breathless commander craned his head back to give him more room to work. Taking advantage of such exposure, he ran his lips over a delicate jaw and up to the ear. Teasing the earlobe between his teeth, he earned an encouraging moan. The sound was muffled in an obvious attempt to keep quiet. Repeating the same action, he tried to release his rival's voice.

Feeling revived, Squall attempted to make things a little less one sided. If Seifer didn't stop biting his ear, he was going to end up making more morbidly embarrassing sounds. Though he was generally an innovator, he couldn't think clearly, so he opted to mimic what he knew to feel good. Moving away from the blond's insatiable mouth, he turned and softly kissed the assertive man's neck. Not really thinking about his actions, he sucked in the same manner that Seifer had done when he'd given him a hickey.

"Nnh!" Seifer stiffened suddenly. Between a responsive Squall sucking on his neck and the lithe form pressed tightly against his hardened manhood, he felt the throb of climax begin. It was far too soon and with far too little contact. Not being a pubescent boy, he refused to have such an embarrassing reaction.

At the blond's sudden tensing, Squall stopped and leaned back. Afraid he'd done something wrong, he looked up in question and slight apology. Green eyes were clenched tightly shut and there was a noticeable blush to the knight's tanned face. "Seifer?" he spoke in concern, almost dropping his forgotten coat now that he wasn't crushed against the man's chest.

Agitated that his body reacted so extremely, Seifer's annoyance was not with the man in his arms, but with himself. He was too excited considering they had only kissed. Shaking his head to the unasked question, he assured the brunet that nothing was wrong. "This is not the place to do this," he bit out tersely, willing his body to cool down before he embarrassed himself. Hinting that they should move to the bedroom, he loosened his hold.

"You're the one who-" Squall started to point out in old habit of contradiction, but Seifer cut him off.

"I'll use any excuse to manhandle your ass, so let's go before I decide to carry you," the blond growled out, needing release.

Sensing an unspoken need, Squall complied.

Not sure of the way, when Squall reached the top of the stairs, he looked to the blond for directions. Though he stood aside to let Seifer move before him, the older boy instead lowered an arm around his waist and steered him to the left and past a few closed doors.

Once inside the room, Squall started to walk farther in, but Seifer didn't seem willing to let him move out of reach. Dropping his coat to the floor, a similar ruffling suggested that the ex-knight had done the same. With one arm already across his chest, another arm shifted to hold him around the waist. His eyes widened slightly when the tall man pressed against him from behind, letting him know the extent of the blond's arousal as it rubbed stiffly against his backside.

"Squall," Seifer said breathily, mustering his last vestiges of control. "I won't force you to do anything." While he was too hard not to require release, he thought he would at least be able to back off and take care of it by himself if the brunet weren't willing to go that far. If they moved any further, he couldn't promise anything.

Figuring out the knight's meaning, Squall searched for his own standing on the matter. He found that sensible reasoning was just not something he was capable of at the moment. Deep down, he knew that all his mixed and confusing emotions were indiscernible because he had never felt them before. It was, if nothing else, a rare chance to fulfill desires he had never had. If it became something they regretted, then they could pretend like it never happened.

Having made his mind up, Squall felt more assured of his actions. He might have been unskilled, but at least he was no longer uncertain as well. Wriggling loose, he turned to face the blond. Pressing his own hardening member against the knight's thigh, he stated, "You're not the only one who wants this."

Staring into blue-grey eyes for a stunned moment, Seifer was again forced to rein himself in. Either the pretty boy hero wanted to be fucked senseless or was entirely unaware of just how much he wanted to screw that pert ass until the sexy brunet couldn't stand. Leonhart apparently had no idea what it meant to be the object of another man's lust. Pointedly sliding his hand down along the commander's back, he groped the brunet's cursedly jean clad ass. The movement pressed the smaller man harder against his thigh, earning him a surprised moan.

The increased friction sent pleasured shivers down to Squall's groin. Reaching up, he drew Seifer in for another kiss. The blond greedily took control and drove him back demandingly. This seemed to be their rhythm.

Not breaking away, they deftly unfastened their gunblades and propped them against the wall.

Unable to get enough of the brunet, Seifer carefully stepped towards the bed. With each step forward, he moved the sweetly tasting commander back. It was slow progress given their busied state of kissing each other.

Squall's legs eventually met the object they'd been moving towards. Hastily removing their boots, they separated for the first time, only to hastily return to the same heated action.

As the knight gently pushed him back, Squall took the hint and lay down. Before he could slide up farther along the bed, the blond pinned him against the mattress. With his feet still planted on the floor, the domineering man carefully positioned a knee on the edge of the bed between his legs, creating friction against his groin.

While moving away from Squall's mouth, knowing he needed to be nice and give the brunet some time to breathe, Seifer moved along a delicate jaw. Through his heady lust, he managed to ask an important question, "Is this your first time?" He nibbled the top of the younger man's ear, grinning at the gasped moan given off. When he didn't get an answer, he backed off a little to better let the brunet reply.

Tensing slightly, Squall regarded the blond with an uncertain look. He didn't embarrass easily, but he was wary of reaction the truth would receive. "Does it matter?" His admission of inexperience was implied.

"A little, so I know to go easy. But, I never really thought you would've been with another guy anyway." Seifer ran his hands down the brunet's sides and ghosted under the hem of his shirt.

"Oh," Squall murmured involuntarily, wincing at his misinterpretation, but deciding it didn't matter either way.

Seifer's eager hands stilled their exploration of supple flesh. A ludicrous thought entered his mind. Gazing up, he looked into the commander's eyes. "What did you think I meant?" he asked, wishing he could ignore his conscience and just fuck the brunet senseless.

Assuming it didn't matter either way, Squall answered, "I thought you meant to ask if I'd ever been with anyone."

The ludicrous idea was slowly becoming less outrageous, but still not plausible without actual confirmation. Gulping, Seifer grew somewhat apprehensive, knowing his knightly nature would never allow him to screw a virgin on a whim. "Have you ever had sex with _any_one?"

Frowning, Squall didn't like the dwindling heat. "No," he stated, simply not understanding what the problem was.

"Shit," Seifer cursed and slumped in defeat and disappointment. Leonhart was a fucking virgin. His mind tried to grapple with the concept.

"What?" Squall asked defensively, sliding farther up the bed and out from beneath the knight.

Raising his head, the blond looked into unguarded eyes. "I don't know," he admitted. He really didn't know why it mattered, but it did. His penis was straining against the confines of his pants and telling him to take the willing lion that very second, and yet he couldn't. "How are you a virgin?" It seemed illogical. The desirable commander had always been easy on the eyes. How was Leonhart a virgin? It made no sense.

Frustrated that he had finally been able to let go and heed his desires only to encounter a standstill, Squall regarded the blond with a frown. "I just am," he muttered evenly.

At the slow seeping in of information, Seifer felt another feeling stir within. This new feeling grew exponentially and didn't seem to fit the passionate mood that had been present moments ago. It was almost like an eager giddiness. "So, I'd be your first?" he asked, more to himself than the brunet who was slowly closing up on him.

Squall had been about ready to declare his insane desires to be some freak lapse in judgment and leave the room to rid himself of the ache between his legs, but then he caught something odd in Seifer's eyes. He thought the blond was going to reject him, but then a rather goofy sort of grin formed on the man's face and he knew Seifer was still interested. Understanding his rival's sudden excitement, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. "This isn't the only first experience you'd be taking," he commented cynically.

Slowly moving his way up the bed to reach the unsullied lion, Seifer felt the new lighthearted feeling mingle with his arousal. Being the arrogant man he was, he was positively elated at the prospect of being the first person to take the commander. He would be the first to tame the lion. His ego swelled in turn with his cock. Lifting the younger man's shirt up, he ran his hands along smooth skin and toned muscles. Remembering Squall's comment, he wondered how long that defiant attitude would stand against his ministrations. "What other experiences?" he questioned, excited fingers moving higher and touching a hardened nipple.

Seeing the glint of mischief in the blond's eyes, Squall struggled to keep his wits about him. He failed to suppress the surprised hitch in his breathing at the feel of Seifer pinching his nipple. Gritting his teeth to keep from moaning as pleasure spiked through him, he edgily answered, "If that fumbling use of CPR was really a kiss, then there was that."

Pinching the other nipple, Seifer felt his cock twitch as the lithe form arched into his touch. At the brunet's second admission of the night, he swiftly moved forward to hover over the sultry man and stare down. "That was done all wrong," he stated, referring to what was apparently his rival's first kiss. He lowered himself, resting carefully against the smaller form. "This is how it should have been." Gently he pressed his lips to Squall's. Unlike the harsh movements from before, he kept it soft. Running his tongue along an already thoroughly kissed bottom lip, he asked for entrance instead of demanding it. Even after Squall accepted him willingly, he kept it simple and sweet. Mingling their tongues for a short time, he drew back and smirked at the sight of closed eyelids.

There were no sarcastic comments or defiant urges left in Squall. He had expected the kiss to last longer and was disappointed when the blond ended it. He couldn't say which he preferred, rough or gentle. He quite liked them both. When the ex-knight reached a hand down and cupped his groin, he arched into the touch and bit his lip harshly to keep from moaning loudly.

Green eyes narrowed as Seifer remembered his previous goal to make Squall moan and call out his name in that voice he wasn't even certain he had heard in the first place. Seeing the brunet bite his lip, he was reminded of the boy's stubborn nature that was unlikely to vanish even during the most pleasure filled moments. Making deft work of unbuttoning loose fitting jeans, he was thankful for the lack of belts. Squall didn't seem to have any reservations about going further and he didn't think he was capable of stopping at that point. Taking the next step, he tugged the commander's jeans and pulled them downward.

Lifting his hips a little to aide in the undressing process, Squall winced at the feel of cold air. Seifer had pulled both pants and boxers down, exposing his hardened flesh.

Jeans tossed aside, Seifer smoothly pulled his own shirt over his head and discarded it. He didn't want to be over dressed for the occasion.

Though Squall was hardly an expert on sex, he remained under the impression that there was little difference between the orgasms he had experienced while jerking off, which had only been a few times during hormonal puberty, and an orgasm received from the ministrations of another person. He had already received more physical pleasure than he thought possible. He hadn't imagined kissing to be such an arousing activity. Under such a mistaken impression, he was wholly unprepared for what his rival had in store.

Suspecting his untainted rival would be mildly sensitive, Seifer grinned. He relished the sight of the reclining brunet, exposed to him like never before. Squall had such a perfect body, proportioned and sculpted like a work of art. He was not envious since he was quite proud of his own muscular frame, but he knew when appreciation was due. Stirring from his study, he decided to dive right in and drive his rival mad with pleasure.

Seifer ran a teasing finger from the base of the exposed length to the tip. His grin abruptly fell at the moan freely admitted from swollen lips. It wasn't quite as unhinged as what he had heard earlier, but it was closer. The sexy voice he was attempting to wrangle out of the brunet was not without its costs. His throbbing erection pulsed dangerously towards climax just from the sound.

Making up his mind, Seifer decided that if he were going to ejaculate like some pubescent boy, it would be worth the embarrassment for the sake of hearing his rival screaming his name in orgasmic abandon. Though he had never once felt the inclination to have sex with another man, he had observational knowledge on how to stimulate a cock properly. It wasn't as though Leonhart would be able to know the difference between an experienced mouth and an inexperienced one.

Seifer acted with experiences from what had been done to him. Swiping his tongue across the slit of the commander's cock, he felt no qualms when the action caused the brunet to cry out. Holding the base, he was certain that even though Squall wasn't necessarily large, he wouldn't be able to take the entire length. Closing his eyes, he listened to his rival's responses as he slid the engorged flesh into his mouth.

"Ahh!" Squall couldn't help it anymore. Though embarrassed at his cries, he was more concerned with the unbelievable sensations Seifer was giving him. How could it possibly feel so good? Hyne, he had never felt such pleasure. "Nnnh!" He gripped the bedding beneath him, his knees bending slightly and falling to the side to give the man better access. He couldn't take much more.

Seifer found a steady rhythm, bobbing his head up and down while sucking and licking. He found he was able to take more of the length than he had initially thought, but he wouldn't even bother trying to deep throat. His hand moved to massage nearly forgotten balls. The taste of surprisingly sweet precum was his only warning alongside a rather loud cry. The completely unhinged pitch of the commander's voice was what he had been going for.

Feeling himself so close, Squall grasped at the blond's hair and tried to pull the man off. "I'm going to c-come," he managed to say. Seifer didn't move. Instead, the knight seemed to pick up the pace. It was too much. White spots danced before his eyes as he squeezed them shut. His back arched off the bed and his head pressed harder into the mattress. "Ah-S-Seifer!" he cried his rival's name as waves of pleasure wracked his body and his seed burst forth in an intense shudder.

Seifer knew the sensitive brunet's climax was coming, but was oddly compelled to taste just how sweet the man's release was. When Squall finally cried his name, he twitching member jerked precariously near orgasm, already leaking precum.

Panting heavily, Squall tried to settle down and catch his breath. His eyelids drooped in a cathartic state of bliss. For several long moments, he drifted in disorientation, his body shuddering every so often. Not relaxing for long, he remembered that he had not been the only one in need of release. After being given such unparalleled pleasure, he couldn't possibly let the favor go unreturned. Sitting up, he frowned slightly at the sight of cum on the blond's chin. It wasn't that he had reservations about it, but he imagined the stuff didn't taste very good. He wouldn't apologize though, not after giving the blond a fair enough warning.

Intent on returning the favor, Squall cupped the prominent bulge in Seifer's pants. The blond groaned, but then grasped his hand and pushed it away.

"I'm afraid, I'm too close for any real fun," Seifer informed. The brunet was completely oblivious to the effect he had on him.

Insistent and stubborn, Squall refused to be the only one to receive anything that night. Leaning close, he kissed the blond, deepening it just enough to taste the surprisingly sweet flavor that hadn't been present before. Curious at the strange flavor, he wondered if Seifer's release tasted the same as his own. Determined to find out, his hands fumbled with the single button and zipper of his rival's pants. The throbbing member within was too erect to remain concealed. The tip had pushed above the rim of the blond's boxers and once the pants were unzipped, it pushed its way out into the open. Eyeing the darkened flesh, Squall was resigned to being physically smaller than Seifer in every respect.

Pearly drops were already dripping along the side, while the tip glistened an angry red color. Not wanting to make the man wait, Squall shifted into place, bending down to access the knight's cock with his mouth. Licking the head gently, he tasted the blond for the first time. It was a rather bitter and salty flavor, but he wasn't turned off by it. Though he had a bit of a sweet tooth, he could make an exception. As he moved to take the wide length in his mouth, his choppy hair fell forward. Wincing at the mouthful he had, he wondered how anybody could do it. Refusing to give up, he moved up and down a couple times before feeling his gag reflex kick in.

Pulling off, Squall coughed. Before Seifer could stop him, he attempted it again. This time he started a little easier, focusing more on the tip and avoiding taking too much. It was difficult to find the right rhythm between bobbing his head and sucking. After growing somewhat comfortable, he attempted to incorporate his tongue, but it was overwhelmed once again. He settled for using his tongue when only the tip in his mouth.

Watching the determined lion attempt to service him was the last straw. While the brunet sucked on his cock's sensitive head, Seifer felt himself shudder. "Fuck, Squall, if you do that…" All too soon he found himself climaxing into the mouth of an unsuspecting commander.

At Seifer's words Squall had started to pull back, but warm fluid spurt out too quickly. Unable to contain it, most of it trailed down his chin. Reflexively a hand wiped at it. Curious in the silent moment after, he held his hand aloft and observed the sticky release. Bringing his hand to his mouth, he started to lick it clean. It was definitely an odd taste, but in his unconscious decision that the act of fellatio was another skill for him to acquire, he decided he could get used to it.

Having spent himself, Seifer looked over to Squall. His green eyes widened as he saw the naïve man sampling his seed. While part of him wanted to laugh at the mixture of curious questioning in those blue-grey eyes, another part of him found the scene highly arousing. Pouncing forward, he pinned the brunet beneath him. "You have no idea how sexy you are, do you?" Seeing the stunned look on the beautiful face, he leaned in and kissed his formal rival turned attractive sex demon.

Both having spent themselves, they slowly dwindled their actions down to soft kissing. Sated and tired, they wound up sharing the one bed, drifting off without question of what would become of it all in the morning. Having never been anything but rivals, the day's events were a very unpredicted turn. Neither man had acted with any understanding, just overwhelming desire.

TBC… Please review…


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

What Are We Now?

A pale moon had risen high in the night sky. Through sheer curtains, the light cast cool shadows around the dark room. Sprawled on his back, Seifer had managed to ease a sleeping commander close. As the brunet rest a head on his chest, he absently stroked the soft mop of hair. It had already become an odd habit of his.

Even after their gratifying activities, Squall had been distant. Seifer wasn't sure what he had been expecting. The new object of his infatuation was certainly not to be held to any previous standards. The brunet had drifted off on the other side of the bed and hadn't seemed keen on cuddling up. Unsure whether he should be reading very far into it at all, he had decided to let tired commander have his own way until falling asleep. To his utmost pleasure, it had only taken a little prompting before the brunet had unconsciously furled against him.

A delicate hand rested nearby the boy's sleeping face, seeming almost childlike in pose, as though pout lips might part to suck on a thumb. Seifer had never seen his rival so unguarded.

While the commander slept soundly, sleep eluded the ex-knight. His mind continued to replay what had happened that day while he analyzed every subtle feeling he felt inside. His feelings had changed, which was something he had suspected since dreaming of his rival the other night. There was no excusing his desires as suppressed libido and he wasn't the sort of person to run away from the truth. He had to acknowledge the lust and passion he felt for the reticent young man. Though alarmed, Seifer would even go so far as to suspect that he was falling in love or at least forming a level of attachment beyond lust.

Admittedly, he had always cared about Squall, though never in a romantic sense. They hadn't been friends, but they were still closer to one another than anyone else. When they had ended up being the only originals left at the orphanage, it had been clear that in the whole world they only had each other. Being the cocky asshole that he was, he would never have admitted how much he valued having the brunet under the same roof. Arriving at Balamb Garden had been exciting, depressing, and frightening all at once. Quiet little Leonhart had been sent with him, making the change bearable.

Seifer sighed, stilling at the slight stirring his actions caused in the brunet. When he was certain the sated lion was still sound asleep, he relaxed.

Thinking back again, he wondered if his constant focus on taunting Squall had just been an excuse. He could remember feeling a confusing longing when glancing across the cafeteria at the isolated loner. Though he had easily made friends, he could never forget or ignore the scrawny boy whose stubborn nature rivaled his own. He had always searched the milling crowds between classes for a glimpse of chocolate brown hair.

He was reluctant to admit that his constant badgering of the boy may have been his way of making sure they had some relationship when friendship wasn't an option. He had been older and too hubristic to befriend someone who was on par with his skill level, so that had only left rivalry.

Why hadn't he realized it before?

Seifer received an answer when Squall shifted in his hold, gently raking fingertips over his bare chest. His entire body seemed to react like a sensitive bundle of nerves, shivering pleasantly at the ghosting touch. His altered perception of their relationship was the result of having recently felt overwhelming lust for his rival, which more than suggested he had been overlooking something. Such urges didn't spring from thin air. He hadn't noticed the underlying attachment beneath their rivalry because he had never had a reason to look for it.

When the seemingly fragile form in his arms shifted again, Seifer responded by resuming his petting of soft hair. He felt an indiscernible emotion when his ministrations caused the brunet to grow still again, the unconscious lion receiving what had been missing. A grin brightened handsome features as he gazed at the commander, who was so terribly trusting while sleeping with him.

Thoughts returning to the hedonistic activities that had taken place in that very bed, Seifer regretted not being able to hold out longer. The day had been long and his body had been denied release after first kissing the commander, so he understood that the culmination of intense arousal and sore need had brought him to a quick end.

Just thinking of all the fun things he could do with the slim and toned body beside him sent a familiar a blood rush to his loins. He still couldn't believe the younger man was a virgin. Smiling secretively, he reminded himself that Leonhart's virginity would be his for the taking. Training the brunet's sensitive body to respond to his touch would be quite enjoyable. If he knew his rival, then the inexperienced man would want to practice repeatedly until honing new skills and techniques. It was a very exciting prospect, especially since he knew the commander had quite the fast learner.

Almost shivering in delight, Seifer knew he had found the perfect bed partner. Their rivalry persisted despite Leonhart being a commander and him not belong to garden anymore. Sex would become a competition, where they constantly strove to outdo each other and make the other feel unparalleled pleasure. He could hardly wait to begin teaching the brunet all the deliciously perverted things the virgin boy knew nothing of.

Seifer moved his hand from choppy brown hair and trailed it down a smooth bare back. Slipping lower, under the blanket that was drawn up, he groped one of several sinfully appealing features. The drool worthy ass of Commander Leonhart was perhaps the only reason so few people argued against the commander wearing leather pants in place of the baggy uniform.

"Nnh," Squall mumbled, still beneath the veil of slumber. Shiva's stifled laughter echoed in his mind as the snowy world faded. He had sought her advice after what he had done with the ex-knight. His guardian had been of little help, only giving cryptic answers to questions he never seemed to even ask. Shiva had begun to laugh before informing him their time was up and that someone else needed him.

Seifer's body flared with heat when the brunet unconsciously arched against his hand. That lithe body was apparently very honest when the commander's stubborn resolve wasn't present to control it. He couldn't wait for future opportunities to exploit such knowledge.

At the first fluttering of long lashes, Seifer turned and wrapped his other arm around the brunet's waking body. Pulling the boy closer, he shifted to lay himself more atop. Before soft lips could part and speak in protest, he attacked a sensitive ear.

"Seifer-ngh!" Squall had still been wondering at Shiva's odd behavior when he had been jolted awake by roaming hands and a nipping mouth at his ear.

Teasing the soft lobe with his teeth, Seifer felt less guilty about disturbing the brunet's sleep when the first sound from that sweet mouth was his name. He never felt such appreciation for his name then he did right then.

Biting his lip, Squall fought to keep control over his body. It was a new and troubling experience to have his body not obeying his mind. He might have been less angry if it didn't seem so much like his body was listening to Seifer's command instead of his own. Shaking off the last remnants of sleep, he tried to pull away. With the larger blond practically on top of him, he only managed to press against the bed. Pointedly turning his head away, he rejected the older boy's touch. "What is it?" he asked evenly, knowing the blond wouldn't have woken him up after so much arguing the past couple days to get more rest.

Propping himself up with muscular arms on either side of the warm body below, Seifer gazed at the commander's profiled face. The indifferent attitude made him question whether or not everything had been a momentary distortion, some rift in reality. He was filled with trepidation at the thought of pretending like none of it had happened. He didn't want to ignore it, he wanted to move further and explore what it was between them.

While Seifer had preoccupied imaging what he would like to do to Squall's body, he had overlooked the likely possibility that it had been a freak occurrence that the commander would rather forget. Though he still felt drawn to his rival, there was no guarantee that his feelings were reciprocated. He wouldn't give up yet. "Squall," he spoke softly with hidden apprehension, "what are we now?"

Staring blankly across the shadowed room, Squall slowly turned his head back and gazed solemnly into green eyes. The question was a repeat of the one asked at dinner. Even when asking himself he couldn't find an answer. Rivals didn't kiss each other, and they most definitely didn't suck each other's cock. Friends didn't do that sort of thing either, but they couldn't possibly be lovers, so what were they?

Focus flickering, Squall's eyes ran over the muscular torso of his rival. As his desires stirred, there was no concluding that his attraction was fleeting. Part of him had hoped the burning flame would expend itself after flaring so brightly when they had pleasured each other.

Seifer watched as blue-grey eyes roved his body. There was no repulsion, which was a good sign. Adversely, the commander wasn't reaching out to draw him in for a kiss, which he had been hoping for. He saw confusion and uncertainty in the boy's clear eyes, not the lust he wanted. It occurred to him that the commander had not spent the night musing and sorting through recent events, so such confusion was expected. Deciding to enlighten his partner in crime, he spoke, "When we were still first year cadets, I beat up four seniors because they were going to put you in your place." The look on Squall's was priceless. Unbidden emotion changed from annoyance to confusion to anger and back to confusion.

The blond's words had taken a moment to set in. Squall hadn't exactly seen the relevance to the statement. Was it a confession or just Seifer being completely random? When he considered the implications behind it he became angry. "I could have handled it," he growled, as if it had all occurred moments ago.

Green eyes stared for a moment into the irate stormy eyes of the brunet. Though surprised at the reaction, he should have expected as much. With a soft chuckle he shook his head. "That wasn't the point. And besides, we were first years, you knew nothing of fighting and they were all twice your size."

Brows furrowed, Squall felt insulted, but before he could quip out his own remark in his defense, Seifer stopped him.

Taking an unusual approach of indirectness, Seifer was unable to contain himself, needing to express his views properly. "I had seen them watching you-"

"Seifer," Squall interrupted, not seeing the point and wanting to know why the blond was acting so weird all of a sudden. He was silenced when the ex-knight roughly kissed him without warning. Even if he didn't want to, he was helpless to the way all thoughts left his head. His body responded automatically, accepting the action. Weakened, his only complaint was that it ended too soon.

"They were watching you," Seifer continued smoothly. "Everyone seemed to always watch you. You were silent and proud and when you refused to make nice with them, they thought you needed to be put in your place." Blue-grey eyes seemed annoyed, but pout lips simply frowned in resignation to hear him out. "You should have known that you'd piss people off like that." He smirked as those bright eyes narrowed as if to tell him to make his point quickly. "I told them that the only person who could kick your ass was me. From then on your enemies became mine."

The sentiment behind the ex-knight's words was most unbecoming. Squall had no idea what that sentiment was, but it was still meaningful if only for the fact that he could tell the blond was trying to impress something of importance. "I'm not going to thank you for something I didn't ask you to do." Did Seifer think he was going to be grateful? He could have handled it himself. He might not have had much training back then, but he could have handled it.

Green eyes widened for a moment, before softening with amusement. Any woman Seifer had ever slept with would have considered his words to be a marriage proposal, but Leonhart only resented him for such protection. It was both infuriating and endearing. Cringing at his uncharacteristic display of seriousness, he braced himself for what he was about to say. The commander wouldn't understand it if he wasn't blunt, so he said, "I can't say that I ever wanted to fuck you like I do now, but I think there may have always been something."

"…" Squall opened his mouth to speak, thinking perhaps he would tell Seifer what an idiot he was being or just yell at him again for going behind his back to protect him all those years ago, but nothing came out. The blond had made a surprisingly valid point. It was far more likely that there had always been something dormant between them, rather than inexplicably feeling the desire to screw each other. The question better asked was what had he always felt for his rival and why hadn't he noticed it?

Even with Seifer looking down at him with questioning eyes, Squall didn't reply. He was thinking, trying to find another side to their age-old rivalry. He was not immune to the frustration of living a lie, but after being raised by a sorceress to fight sorceresses, secretly loving his rival wouldn't be the most surprising turn of events in his life. He didn't love Seifer, or even like the boisterous blond very much, but he obviously felt something. He currently lay naked beneath the equally naked older boy, and his first instinct upon seeing his domineering rival was to reach up and pull him closer. Obviously there was something he was missing.

When the commander closed those pretty grey-blue eyes without any inclination to responding, Seifer felt a sinking feeling of desolation in his chest. A lump formed in his throat, making it impossible to swallow properly while he continued to wait with bated breath for some response. If Leonhart didn't feel anything for him, then he had been a complete fool.

Unable to wait any longer, Seifer became bitter and resentful. He had been premature in his assumptions and exposed himself to rejection. Rolling off the brunet, he ignored the coldness that washed over him, even with the blanket drawn up. As he settled away from the slim and unmoving figure, he felt a surge of anger. Since when did one-night stands render him vulnerable?

Between his indecision to leave the bed and get dressed Seifer almost didn't hear Squall finally speak.

"When you left," Squall spoke softly, saying the words as soon as he thought them. "I thought you were gone for good." Worrying his lip, his words were forced, like when Matron used to make him apologize after fighting with Seifer. "It felt like when Ellone had left."

Seifer whipped his head around and looked at the brunet fiercely. To be compared to the boy's adopted sister in regards to level of attachment was more than he had expected.

Undeterred by the intense gaze of green eyes, Squall continued, "After a little while I realized that you weren't Ellone or like everybody else." Scoffing at his own thoughts, he moved to sit up. Propping himself up lazily, he leaned back with his arms, not bother to adjust the low riding blanket that threatened to slip from his waist entirely. "It wasn't like you had really left, but found yet another way to piss me off. I was so sure that it was just temporary, because the world couldn't spin if we weren't together to fight anymore."

An uncertain grin came to Seifer's face. Squally-boy was right. Their rivalry was so natural and fitting, a future where they couldn't be near each other to fight was no future at all.

"I felt that way until news of your execution reached us." Squall smiled knowingly as Seifer's grin fell and his eyes looked at him with shock. "We all thought you were dead," he admitted. Quietly, he added, "It was worse than Ellone." The glare Squall was a bit misleading. "You'll always be a bastard for making me feel like that. I was never scared, not even when I thought I was alone without Sis, but when I thought you would become nothing more than a memory, I was scared that one of the guardian forces would take that away too."

Seifer didn't know how to respond. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but his heart was strumming madly.

"I don't know what we are now. None of it makes any sense, but since when has anything we've done made sense?" Squall looked at the knight and shrugged noncommittally. He just didn't care anymore. If he didn't already understand, then he probably never would. Leaning over, he stretched to meet Seifer's lips and placed a small kiss on them before sitting back again. "Friends with benefits, I suppose."

Groaning with frustration Seifer raked a hand through his hair before giving in. Longingly, he looked back at the brunet. The younger fighter was tantalizingly reposed with a smooth lean body, which he knew molded perfectly against his own. "We've never been friends, but I could settle for the benefits."

Chuckling Squall quipped back, "Does that mean I don't have to get you anything for your birthday?"

"No, I've already made a deal about my present this year," the knight said, thinking back on his cocky comment to the cowboy. "It just means that we don't have to make nice in order to have fun."

"Should I feel insulted that you just want me for my body?" Squall said, quirking a brow.

"Probably." Seifer decided they had done enough talking, which was highly unusual considering Squall hardly ever talked. Reaching out, pulled the commander close, blanket left behind.

As Seifer kissed the younger man, he decided that it was quite possible to become addicted to such a taste. If he had his wicked way, the overworked commander would never leave the bed again. It would be a miracle if they ever made it back to garden.

Both boys shared a bitter contempt when it felt like the world was conspiring against their being together. A bright light flashed through the window and a loud explosion sounded in the distance. Breaking apart with much reluctance, Squall and Seifer were nearly dressed again when the dull shaking reached the building they resided in.

If Seifer had been an optimist he would have been thankful that the interruption hadn't occurred while he in the midst of pounding the commander raw. Sorely pessimistic, he was quite pissed that he hadn't even gotten further than a kiss before having to end it.

Squall was simply pissed that he had to bother at all, and could only hope the body count was zero and that garden didn't get dragged into anything.

The pair hastily left their room after grabbing their respective gunblades.

TBC… Sweet, but not enough to cause a cavity…


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Sub Zero

"It took you ladies long enough," called a gruff voice.

Squall and Seifer had rushed down the creaky stairs and moved into the large room that served as a bar. The room was dark, but their eyes were already well adjusted. With chairs propped up on top of the tables and no customers in sight, it looked completely different.

Near the end of the bar, closest to the door, Mike was leaning back with his arms folded. He was dressed and waiting as though he'd been there the whole time, only now with a heavy jacket, ready to go outside.

"I'm driving," Seifer said as he strode forth, closely followed by Squall.

Scoffing, the barman stood straight. "Like hell you are." Stalking to the door, he opened it to the rush of cold air.

Not missing a stride the two fighters followed. Questions could be answered while they moved, but time was precious, especially when the explosion had already occurred.

Skipping down the steps of the stoop, Seifer answered Squall's unasked question. "Lieutenant Garrant is a former Galbadian soldier and there is no arguing with him about going with us."

Squall didn't reply but jogged to catch up with the barman. While he couldn't say he liked the guy, since he generally didn't like anyone, he was finding the former soldier to be rather interesting. In the hopes that Mike had seen more than they had, he inquired, "What did you see?"

"Just the flash, but I'd say it's an X-34 LRC missile."

Mildly impressed, Squall didn't have time to contemplate the barman's knowledge. Concluding that it had come from the east, he tried to consider the possibilities of origin. If it really were a long range cruise missile then it would have come from Trabia, Galbadia, or Esthar. If he had time for useless thoughts, he would have prayed to Hyne that Esthar had absolutely nothing to do with it. "Can you estimate the distance?" he asked, hoping the barman wasn't just making guesses. While he was savvy with most forms of artillery, at least those used by Balamb, he was not ready to take any exams on the exploding variations of long ranged missiles.

Three car doors slammed shut in a hurry.

As the engine revved to life, Mike answered while deftly shifting gears, "Twenty miles give or take a few."

"What the hell is a missile doing seaward of Dollet?" Seifer remarked incredulously.

"Missed target," Squall muttered from the front passenger seat. His mind was working fast. While part of him wanted to consider the cause of it all, he was more concerned with the immediate aftermath. Pointlessly patting his jacket pockets, he remembered he didn't have his phone on him. "Seifer, give me your phone."

Though the blond fished it out of his pocket right away, he commented in protest, "Didn't your parents ever teach you the magic words?"

Snatching the small item from the knight's outstretched hand, Squall mumbled, "Your humor eludes me." Flipping it open, he waited a moment while it powered on. He hesitated briefly before dialing a long stream of numbers. Waiting, he held the phone to his ear.

"What's the princess doing?" Mike asked, directing his question to the ex-knight.

"Probably calling Trepe…." Seifer trailed off when he realized that the barman didn't know who that was. "He's calling Balamb Garden."

Taking a sharp turn, Mike directed his words to the pretty boy next to him. "It exploded beneath the surface of the water. It's impossible to tell how much damage the shockwave will do."

"Quistis," Squall's voice had taken on the serious and commanding tone it always would when giving orders. "Wake Selphie up, have her access the Nero Satellite's mainframe using my personal override code, she knows it. Have the satellite zoom in at 42 degrees north, 50 degrees west… yes, Dollet. Now, get Xu and have her call President Loire… don't ask… I don't have time. I need you to contact Governor Fenrir… Mike," he clarified whom he was speaking to. "What's the worst case scenario?"

"Hn, worse case, eh?" Speeding through the empty streets Mike considered the possibilities of what could happen. "If the missile detonated at just the right depth, we could expect one hell of a wet city this early morning." His dark blue eyes shift briefly to study the boy's reaction. The boy was a walking contradiction. Appearing delicate and fragile, but proving steady and commanding. The kid's face remained impassive, which was something Mike wasn't sure how to take.

"Quistis," the commander resumed authoritatively, "Contact Fenrir and have him exact an emergency evacuation. I want Dollet empty within the hour… I don't have time…" Quistis kept asking him what was going on, but he didn't have the time to explain anything. The horizon was filled with the dark glittering depths of the sea in the moonlight. They had nearly reached the shore. Gritting his teeth, he felt compelled to remind the head instructor that while he may have lapsed into the use of her first name, he was the commander and not her student at the moment. "Trepe, I gave you your instructions, now take care of it!" His voice was a bit harsher than he would have liked, but it was easy to forget being polite to friends when the horizon line seemed to shift.

Catching the flicker of worried emotion cross Squall's face as the brunet stared out the windshield, Seifer leaned forward. Following the pale man's line of sight, it took him a moment to understand. "Say, Mike, any chance that it's just a really strong gravitational force of the moon?"

Mike didn't bother responding.

Never being stationed in any marine corps, Squall relied heavily on the Lieutenant's judgment. "How far out is that?"

"A few miles, five at most." It was difficult to tell, considering the horizon line was deceiving and the night sky backdrop made the distinction even less clear.

"Shit!" Squall swore, almost feeling panicky at the sudden situation he was faced with. "How much time?"

The barman had lived a long life for a soldier and was hardly deterred from the condemning road they were driving down. However, it was slightly overbearing. Gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary, he answered, "Fifteen minutes at the most."

Forcing himself to calm down and think rationally, Squall stared straight ahead and tried not to let his instinctive fear get the best of him. In such situations, it was always his job to find a solution. Currently, he just had to come up with some way to stop a tidal wave from reaching the city within the time limit of fifteen minutes.

"So, why are we going to the beach again?" Seifer asked. Was he the only one who thought it a little strange? A tidal wave heading in their direction and they were practically driving right into it?

Reaching the end of the dead end road, Mike slowed down and stopped a bit suddenly. Cutting the engine, he swiftly got out.

As if the ominous view of approaching danger wasn't enough to set their nerves on edge, a loud siren began to wail. The noise seemed to resound throughout the entire city. Squall couldn't help but wonder why some buoy or detecting system hadn't triggered it earlier. Governor Fenrir had probably called for the alert.

Squall's lips pressed together as he realized that the evacuation couldn't possibly be made in time. Showing no outward sign of distress, his mind continued to think frantically. A very small part of him believed he was going to die, but it was useless to dwell on it. "Fucking Hyne," he cursed in a rare vulgar manner. Unable to come up with a single plan, he stalked forward to the sandy pathway that opened right into the road.

While the rising horizon of black water was sublimely mesmerizing, it was also quite unsettling to watch. Seifer opted for staring at a paler than usual commander with thoughtful grey-blue eyes. His heart leapt in his throat when the brunet suddenly moved forward. "What are you doing?" he asked quickly.

"I'm getting closer," Squall answered, picking the pace up and running down the sloping path.

"Leonhart! Get back here!" Seifer shouted as he moved to follow. While he desperately wanted Squall to heed him, he knew very well that the brunet would keep going. For all his years of training he was suddenly faced with some catastrophic situation like this where death was eminent. How the hell could they even begin to go about finding a way out of this one? The extremely short time span didn't help any either.

With wide strides, Seifer jogged to the bottom of the slope. Tall beach grass blocked his view of Squall for a moment. The brunet was a damn fast runner and was already a fair distance ahead. Seeing that slim figure running towards the source of both their soon to be untimely ends, he was jolted with fear. "Squall!" he yelled, wanting the unreasonable commander to return to his side quickly. His usual acceptance of the brunet's stubborn ways had left. It would have been futile to stand anywhere within a mile radius of the wave when it hit, but he couldn't help but feel great alarm with each step the commander took closer to it.

Adrenaline pumping, Seifer sprinted after the dashing figure.

It was a longer distance to the low tide's edge than normal. Squall didn't know which end of the beach they were at, but it didn't really matter. There was nothing in their ship that could help other than a means of escape perhaps, but he hadn't even considered that an option.

Perhaps he had been playing the hero for so long that he had come to believe it was his mandatory role, or maybe a subconscious part of him knew he was capable of doing something. Whatever the reason, he ran towards the water on instinct.

Seifer caught up with Squall only when the brunet had stopped. Once beside the smaller man, he ridiculously comforted despite not being out of danger. "Squall?" he questioned, wondering what the commander was thinking.

Squall's skin felt a little clammy, a mixture of the two hundred meter dash and the approaching danger. "I don't know what to do," he admitted. He had acted instinctively, but his instincts weren't being very specific. He hadn't the slightest idea what came next. Did he die beside his rival as soon as the water hit, or had he not thought of something yet?

Staring out into the wide expanse of the water, Squall felt mesmerized by the sight. The city lights from behind accompanied the bright moon above, giving glinting light to the darkness. The siren continued to wail in the distance and the disturbing din of panic was growing louder. He hoped everyone could evacuate just as fruitlessly as he hoped he could perform some miracle to help.

Squall's hand flexed, just begging to hold Lionheart. This was one instance where his trusty weapon couldn't help. The tide's edge suddenly receded. The peculiar behavior of the sea made Squall think that Leviathan was nearby, but he knew better.

"It'll be cresting soon," the barman said, jogging up to the pair. The extreme undertow was pulling the water back, almost to the shelf. "At least that means it probably won't reach the other side of the city." If it crested before it hit land, then it would do less damage.

"Yeah, that's fucking fantastic, if we were on the other side of the city!" Seifer shouted. He was angry that his two companions acted as though they weren't about to die. "Dammit, we can at least try and find shelter, we have time," he urged sensibly.

"No," Mike shot that idea down. "If that were the case, we would already be doing it. This thing is gonna hit every inch of the beachfront and knock anything in its path down like a house of cards."

"Well, fuck then, didn't we go in the wrong direction," Seifer spat sarcastically. "Let's get back to the car and haul-ass away from here."

"Hah," Mike laughed at the ex-knight. "Yeah, cause the panicked streets won't stop us. Besides, I'm not running from anything."

"So what the hell are we supposed to do? Just stand here and wait?" Seifer cut the air with his hand and gestured out to the sea. If he were going to die off the battlefield, he would rather be back in bed fucking the commander senseless.

"I think your princess has an idea." Mike stared knowingly at Squall. The commander wouldn't have acted with such determination without some idea of what to do. Judging the way those brows were furrowed and that bottom lip was being chewed on, he'd say the brunet was forming a solution.

Setting a hand on the commander's shoulder, Seifer questioned, "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we're pretty screwed," Squall answered in frustration, still unable to find any way out of their predicament.

"If that's your plan then I'd say we have one hell of a frigid death coming," the barman scoffed, a little disappointed that the boy hero seemed resigned to their watery fate.

Squall's head snapped around and his grey-blue eyes widened as he stared at the barman. "Frigid," he whispered to himself. Facing the water again, he closed his eyes and placed a hand to his forehead in concentration. He didn't need to summon Shiva completely in order to speak with her.

Mind calling out to his guardian force, Squall sought the ice queen's help.

"I'm here. Why don't you summon me?" Shiva's voice answered inside her lion's head. A half summoning was not gratifying in the least. If there was a battle, she wanted to surge forth and fight.

"Can you see?" Squall asked aloud, wondering if he needed to call her forth completely before she could see into the world around him.

"Aye little one, the waters are strange. Is this why you call me?" Shiva replied.

Squall ignored the ex-knight who squeezed his shoulder with concern. He must have seemed weird to be talking to no one. "Yes. There is a wave, a large one. Is it possible to stop it?"

Laughter sounded. "You ask the impossible my lion." Shiva continued to laugh.

Shiva had been Squall's only hope, and at the thought that she could not help, he felt his fear return. "Truly? There is nothing you can do?"

The ice queen's laughter died out. "Ah, my lion, you forget that you often ask the impossible and always make it through. I will do what I can, but this is no ordinary foe."

Squall's breath hitched as he realized that there was still hope. "I'll summon then?" he asked, not sure whether she would fight in the same manner as always or if she was able to do more.

"Please do," she answered.

Seifer had been calling the commander repeatedly, receiving to acknowledgment. Abruptly, the brunet finished summoning, fading from sight as Shiva materialized. The guardian force was smiling. Much to his distain, he realized that even if Squall died, the ice queen would remain unharmed.

Happy chuckling filled the air, as Shiva stepped forward, walking to the water. "There is never a dull moment," she mused. With each step taken, the ground froze beneath her feet.

Seifer didn't think it was possible for sand to freeze, but considering that it was damp it must have been the water. He wondered what the hell his rival had in mind.

Step by freezing step, Shiva walked closer to the water. The ice that formed beneath her feet seemed to spread out as if growing in strength. Her movements were inhumanly smooth and elegant as she made her way forth.

Watching Shiva was perhaps the only sight more mesmerizing than the approaching wave. Neither the former soldier nor the ex-knight could take their eyes off her. It hadn't taken long for Seifer to realize what Squall had been thinking of or what Shiva was now doing here.

Green eyes sharpened as they studied every subtle movement of the guardian force. The ritualistic attack that he'd seen her perform before caused him to watch for the same movements now.

Breathing out, Seifer saw his breath form puffs of air. He could actually feel the temperature dropping drastically. Stepping closer to Mike, he grit his teeth. At least Squall was safe from the repercussions of Shiva's actions, but that was of little consolation given the current predicament he faced. Growling in anger, he closed his eyes in concentration. He was junctioned, but only because Trepe had made that a requirement. The rule-abiding instructor had balked about taking certain precautions while being Squall's bodyguard. He cast Protect on Mike and then himself. The spell wouldn't do much, but it would at least dull the effects of the cold. Normally magic wouldn't work in such a case, but it was an unnatural cold caused by Shiva. Other than Protect, he had no sort of spell that could help, maybe a Cura if they both started to freeze to death.

"Is that what your princess really looks like?" the barman asked in confusion.

"What?" Seifer intoned incredulously. "That's a guardian force you dumb ass. How long ago did they make you retire anyway?"

"That's Lieutenant Garrant to you boy, and no one made me retire. When I was a soldier we didn't have the luxury of those things. We managed with our own skill," Mike grumbled defensively. The blond knight had a knack for pushing all the right buttons to piss a person off.

Scoffing, Seifer replied, "You're looking at Shiva. You'll want to watch this closely, 'cause I doubt you'll ever see something like this again."

The long tendrils of blue hair fluttered as a misted wind kicked up. The guardian dropped her hands to her sides. With her palms facing down, energy gathered at her call. Only the guardians could gather such forces of nature and bide them to listen to their command. The wind gained strength and the misty spray of water began to form cold pellets of ice. The light gathered in her palms, just as it did before she released it and froze the enemy with its touch.

Shiva didn't release the energy however, but continued to gather it beyond what Seifer thought was reasonable for a normal attack. It was true that SeeD hadn't been using Guardian Forces for very long, and within the last decade there hadn't been much information gathered on their existence. Of the guardian forces discovered, most had been found during the recent war. Shiva, Ifrit, and Quezcotl had been the first few, but just about everything they knew of the creatures was still theory and speculation.

The golden, yellow streaks of Shiva's hair changed color. Streaks growing white, similar changes occurred elsewhere. Pale blue skin became snow white, perfectly unblemished as though made of marble.

Nervously, Seifer looked at his watch. Several textbook theories were running through his head at the moment. What worried him was the extended amount of time the Shiva was being summoned. Guardian forces were theorized to take both memories and strength from their host. No one had ever seen the effects of prolonged summoning, but many speculated that it could only be negative. Shiva had already been summoned longer than usual, and she had yet to attack once. Clenching his jaw, he set the timer on his watch, and did the only thing he could, which was to wait. He was torn between his trust in Squall and his knowledge that the brunet would probably jump in front of a speeding car to save a kitten.

The air swirled with small ice droplets and snowflakes. The spray was nearly blinding as the wind blew directly from the ocean. With his eyes squinted against the chaotic winds, Seifer had the distinct impression that the ice queen was drawing all heat from the water.

Given the amount of energy Shiva kept gathering, it was a wonder that her form wasn't blinded from view by the growing light. Slowly and ever so smoothly, her arms rose above her head. The drawing of energy continued. Seifer could feel the air humming and was concerned when the protective shield he had cast began to react.

The haze of the blizzard grew so great that Seifer could hardly make the guardian's form out, though that might have been in part from the blinding light that grew in a condensed form above her head. Her hands had come together and joined each ball of drawn energy. The air was too cold to breath, Seifer had to cover his mouth with the material of his coat.

The sudden howling of wind and blast of light told Seifer that Shiva had released all that energy. The destructive force of her power froze all it touched instantly. The hollow echo of freezing waters pierced the sound of shrill wind.

Relying heavily on his hearing, Seifer listened to the disturbing sounds that carried swiftly to his ears. The noises seemed to be echoing from every direction. The blond knight could only see the bright light as it moved farther out to the ocean, but the blizzard soon swallowed the sight and he could do nothing but listen to the disturbing sounds.

The deep waters gave off low toned snapping sounds as they froze in place. The chaos continued for some time. Eventually, joining the piercing scream of Shiva's powerful attack and the distinctive sound of freezing water, the disturbing mash of ice bellowed loudly. It almost sounded like thunder, but felt more like an earthquake.

Seifer figured that it was the forceful water pushing its way through and keeping its momentum even when turned into ice. He really didn't want to be so close if that were the case. He had every doubt that Shiva's actions were futile. Freezing a small portion of water wouldn't do much, especially with the force of the waves that followed, which would plow right through it.

Beyond cold, Seifer's body was shivering convulsively. A glance to the side showed him a very pale and blue-lipped bartender. Realizing that he had been so consumed with trying to watch Shiva that he'd neglected the state his body was in, he shifted closer to Mike. Crouching low, he yanked the older ma down with him. Huddling closely, they curled up into themselves in an effort to preserve body heat. While he was concerned about his own state of being, he prayed Leonhart was in safer conditions.

The atmosphere grew darker as the light from Shiva's attacked died abruptly. Through the mixture of noises, Seifer thought he could hear the high-pitched gathering and shattering noises from repeated Blizzaga spells. Another light grew. It would seem Shiva was preparing once again.

"Fuck," he cursed. He couldn't do anything except watch and wait. He was junctioned with Ifrit and had more Firagas than he could ever need, but not even a single low-level Blizzard.

Shiva didn't seem to take as long to gather energy this time, but the sporadic castings of Blizzaga continued on simultaneously. Seifer grew suspicious at how the ice queen managed to cast two spells at once. .

At last, the windy blizzard began to die down as it lost its driving force. White flakes still littered, but the sound of magic no longer rang loudly. When the air finally cleared a bit, green eyes surveyed the ocean in disbelief.

The wave of dark water that had been moving steadily closer was now an arcing wall of jagged ice. The time of freezing had not been synced, so the ice was uneven. It seemed the water had pushed through several times, making chunks of broken ice that were scattered in broken shards like bodies on a battlefield.

Hearing the low toned crack of unsettled water beneath the ice, Seifer knew the ocean was already returning to its natural order. The ice wouldn't last, but it appeared to have stopped the tidal wave. The rest of the salty liquid was pushing against the barricade, trying to sweep to the sandy shore the way it was meant to.

Though his footing was slippery Seifer ran forth towards the pale form of Shiva. It wasn't easy to run on the glossy surface while dodging chunks of ice and forcing his numb limbs to move accordingly, but the alarmed knight managed As the last of the snowflakes settled down, he saw the guardian force more clearly. White streaks of hair had returned to their yellow hue and fair skin was a pale blue again. The ice queen was crouching low, which couldn't have been a good sign.

Seifer suspected that Shiva was worn out, unable to stand. Moving closer, he was filled with dread at the dark for of the commander's lame body. Dashing recklessly, he rushed to Squall's side. Forgetting the terrain, he nearly slid past his mark when attempting to stop.

Falling to his knees, Seifer reflected Shiva's position on the other side of an unconscious brunet. His heart beat madly and his chest constricted tightly as he feared the worst. Tentatively, he reached a hand out to the deathly pale face of his rival.

Squall's eyes were shut with snowflakes caught in thick lashes. There was snow in choppy brown hair as well, and Seifer was afraid to find out why the flakes didn't melt. Once roseate lips were now pale blue.

"Hyne," Seifer breathed out. With a lump in his throat he felt his eyes burn with moisture. Raising his head, he looked to Shiva. His green eyes searched her crystal blue ones. The sorrow and sadness he found within them did nothing to calm his fears. His eyes narrowed, as if her expression was some sort of confirmation.

Shakily, the ex-knight moved his hand to the commander's slender neck. He almost pulled back in shock. The brunet's body was so cold, as if he had been dead for hours and left in the mountains on the northern continent.

Seifer's heart leapt as he felt a faint pulse. The younger man was alive. He had never felt such overwhelming relief. Hastily, he stepped back and cast Curaga. The spell didn't react to the motionless body.

"He needs heat. I'm afraid that he's been exposed to Diamond Dust," Shiva informed regretfully. Standing smoothly, she turned to the blond knight. "I haven't very long, will you care for him?"

Glaring at the guardian, Seifer spat, "Better than you could." His resentment for what the brunet had done was being directed at the stubborn man's partner in crime.

Seifer clenched his teeth when Shiva simply smiled and faded from sight. His guess was that spells weren't going to work. Shiva's words weren't exactly cryptic. Squall needed heat before his lithe body froze to death.

Swiftly, Seifer dropped down and gathered the commander's form into his arms. If Quistis were as relentless as always about knowing what was going on then the head instructor would be taking few extra measures. There was sure to be a ship coming, most likely airborne. Unable to be absolutely certain that reinforcements were on the way, he reached into Squall's bomber jacket and retrieved his phone. He paused thoughtfully before hitting redial.

While the line rang, he propped the phone to his ear with a shoulder. With one arm cradling the unconscious commander, he reached his other hand up the brunet's shirt and rubbed furiously against the cold chest. The friction caused the skin to heat up. He was determined to keep the boy's heart warm.

"Squall?" the familiar voice of the head instructor answered on the third ring.

"Guess again Trepe," Seifer responded.

"Seifer," Quistis sounded surprised. "When did you…." her voice trailed off. "Oh, I see you now."

The odd statement wasn't enough to derail the knight's focus. "Where the hell is our transportation?"

"Ragnarok should be there any minute now. How is Squall? Is he okay? What did Shiva just say to you?"

"Trepe, calm down. I'll talk when we get back." While leaving the worried woman in the dark was cruel, he had other matters to be concerned with. He hung the phone up and resumed his focus to the unconscious brunet.

With the slim body lying across his lap, he draped his long trench coat around the small man and held him close. He balanced Squall's head against his neck. Seifer was rather cold himself and not best suited to give a half frozen man any body heat, but he hardly cared.

Still rubbing the brunet's chest, he listened for the sound of Ragnarok.

Squall wouldn't die. Seifer had been too panicked to realize before, but he slowly let the knowledge seep in.

TBC… Unexpected action!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Angry Cowboys

Ragnarok was ill equipped for medical treatment. Selphie's usual giddy manner when piloting the fast flying airship was nowhere to be found, or at least subdued. Setting an autopilot course back to Balamb Garden would have been easy enough, but she chose to steer manually. Manning the controls directly, she could go faster than normal and keep them from crashing. Piloting the ship also kept her eyes busy, so she wasn't staring dubiously at the way Seifer was holding Squall.

The cabin was extremely hot. After dropping a line down and reeling Seifer and Squall up, the ex-knight had told her to turn the heat up. Luckily, the ship had an excellent heating system, since it was meant to travel in space.

Now seated in the copilot's seat, Seifer cradled the commander, whose lame form was wrapped in his trench coat.

Selphie felt rather jumpy, not knowing whether it would be inappropriate to be her cheerful self. Sighing, she gave in, knowing she couldn't pretend not to be excited and concerned. It was an odd mixture, but she was never one to be ordinary. "I saw most of what happened on Nero's video feed. That was insane."

Seifer didn't answer. He could only deal with the messenger girl if he was in a good mood, and he was far from being in a good mood. Only an hour ago, he had been perfectly content and warm with the commander's naked body in his hold. A small grin came to his face when he remembered the way Squall looked with naught but a sheet pooling around that slim waist. Shaking his head, he rid himself of all racy mental images and lecherous thoughts. He was angry with his rival for playing the hero. He couldn't let his dick forgive the boy.

With the huddled form of Squall pressed against him, Seifer was beginning to feel equilibrium return. The warm cabin was helping a lot. The knight could only hope that Squall was simply suffering from hypothermia. It might not have been the best idea to raise the brunet's body temperature so fast, but he didn't have the medical know-how of the proper procedures. Besides, the brunet's pulse was steadily becoming stronger, so he was doing something right.

"We're almost there," Selphie said, looking at Seifer cautiously out of the corner of her eye. The rivaling duo shared more qualities than she had suspected. Seifer was completely ignoring her, which was a skill she had thought only the commander had acquired. Hardly put off, she knew the blond could at least hear her, even if he didn't respond. "Dr. Kadowaki is on call. I didn't even have to tell her who was coming, she already knew." She laughed at this, but trailed off when she was met with silence. "Seifer!" she finally cracked.

"What?" Seifer grumbled, not liking the disturbance.

"He'll be fine. It's Squall," Selphie stated. The commander was practically immortal. Even if the wave had hit, the resilient fight would probably have been found treading water.

"You over estimate him." Seifer trained his attention on the young woman. It was becoming clear why the commander had been put under such intense strain since the war. No one seemed to understand that Squall was flesh and blood, a man who had feelings and insecurities.

Bright green eyes turned to focus on the blond. "Do I?" she asked sincerely.

"He's as human as the rest of us." Seifer wondered if the pilot had any idea that the brunet had very nearly met his end. "He would have died, you know." Reflexively, his arms squeezed his rival's body tighter.

For once, Selphie was speechless. Her mind couldn't quite grasp the concept of Squall dying. Was it possible for the world to exist without their laconic leader? Of course it was. In fact it was less than a year ago that she knew nothing of Squall Leonhart. She had forgotten her entire childhood, which had included her memories of Squally from the seaside orphanage in Centra. Even when her GF was instructed not to take those memories, she had trouble remembering. "I'm sorry," she half whispered.

"Don't tell me," Seifer reprimanded. "For six months, he's held up the weight of the world. I followed everything, heard all the rumors." His eyes were no longer on the abashed messenger girl. Instead, he stared at the pale beauty he held closely. "I think Kramer should get his ass back here. Squally-boy was never meant to be a headmaster. He's not fit for the job, though he'd never tell you guys."

Selphie's brows wrinkled as her guilt grew. Seifer always knew just what to say to make a person feel some extreme emotion. "He's good at what he does," she commented, not quite agreeing that the job didn't suit Squall. "And we're his friends. If he were bothered by it, he would say something."

Scoffing, Seifer glanced sidelong at the copper haired pilot. "Think about it, Tilmitt. He's not exactly a people person. Do you honestly think he should be acting the part of a high school principal? He hates it, I can tell you that much. Besides, isn't being the commander enough?"

"But, Cid is gone," Selphie defended the situation. Squall had been the one to tell them not to worry about and that he didn't feel comfortable letting anyone else fill the position.

"Yeah, Kramer's retired and princess here probably told you all not to worry about a thing." Seifer rolled his eyes. When he saw the face that the young woman pulled he knew he'd hit the nail on the head.

"But, we've tried to help. We know it's a lot of pressure, but he always tells us to back off." They all knew it was wrong on some level, but no one had ever said it in so many words. Now that Seifer was saying it, she felt herself asking him for advice. "What were we supposed to do?"

"Nothing now. I can handle it," Seifer assured, a little wary of the glistening look to the girl's eyes. He wasn't about to deal with a sobbing Tilmitt. The girl was the epitome of radical emotions and he didn't like tears.

Selphie felt her emotions run rampant, all thanks to the antagonizing ex-knight. With a sudden mood swing, she felt defensive of her position as Squall's friend. "I'm still here too, and so is everyone else. We want to help. We just don't know how."

"You can't help," Seifer shot her down immediately, looking her directly in the eye.

"Why not?" Selphie shot back. Setting the autopilot, she stood abruptly and placed her hands on her hips.

"Because you don't know him well enough," Seifer spoke truthfully. Only he knew Leonhart well enough to see through every façade and know where the boy's limits were.

"And you do?" Selphie took a step closer to the pair. It seemed very strange how the knight held Squall. She knew that Seifer was doing it to give the brunet some much needed body heat, but something about it still seemed odd.

Seifer didn't bother answering. He hadn't meant to pick a fight with the messenger girl, not when he had more important matters on his mind. In fact, he was a little reluctant to set her off. Reading the girl's mulish expression, he sighed and responded, "I know you care about him, but I'm calling Kramer. That man isn't old enough for retirement anyway."

Selphie grumbled, throwing her hands in the air and collapsing down to the floor. Balancing on her heels, she rocked back and forth with her arms wrapped around her knees. "Party pooper," she mumbled. The blond was able to pull her feelings around so easily. One second she had been ready to rant and then she felt her will to argue deflate. For a moment she just rested there on the cabin floor.

Seifer nearly laughed at the childish pouting of the bubbly girl. He hadn't been back long, but it already felt like old times. Little Selphie with her never ending supply of happiness and mood swings.

"Will he be okay?" the pouting pilot questioned shyly. Lowering a hand she traced imaginary figures on the cold metal floor.

"He'll be fine. He's too stubborn to die so easily." Seifer purposely contradicted himself in the hopes of angering the girl again. With a half smirk he waited for her to blow up at him, but it never happened.

Selphie still kept her head downcast, as if thoroughly rebuked by the ex-knight's words. "I never knew you guys were so close. I mean, we never thought you were friends or anything."

Seifer scoffed. "We're not friends, I can assure you of that." The young woman looked at him with a surprised face. Presented with such a golden opportunity to shock the girl, he couldn't help but play a small joke. "But, there are many things you don't know about us." Subtly, he pulled Squall even closer so that the brunet's head rested under his chin. It was an extremely intimate position, but no one would ever dare to guess that there was any grounding behind it. Tilmitt's eyes widened slightly as her face showed nothing but confusion.

The autopilot sensor started to beep, grabbing Selphie's attention from the blond knight. Pitching forward, she heaved herself into a standing position. "We're here," she said, walking back to her chair and taking the controls.

Nodding, Seifer pulled the collar of his coat up high around brunet's head. It was four in the morning, but he had a feeling that a fair amount of people would be up and conveniently waiting for the commander to arrive back. Wearing his trench coat, Squall looked especially small. The garment was much too big for the unconscious man.

Shortly after Selphie had taken her seat, she steered into a recently added docking port for Ragnarok. There had been discussion of expanding the landing pad, but with consideration to the garden's mobility, it had been nixed. Selphie had come to think of Ragnarok as her own ship. In fact, Squall never used the aircraft unless she was assigned as the pilot. To her dismay, the cautious commander always had a password set on the ammunition so that she couldn't access it freely.

Not even waiting for the ramp to lower completely, Seifer strode down the sturdy metal plate as it descended. With Squall safely bundled up and cradled in his arms, he moved across the small hanger with Tilmitt bounding shortly behind.

It had been a ten minute flight. That ship could fly like no other. Momentarily, Seifer wondered why Squall hadn't ordered someone to take the ship and rescue them earlier, but he knew the answer even as he asked the question. The last thing that stubborn Leonhart would ever do was run away. He knew this because he was the same way. He might have thrown Squall's sorry ass aboard the craft, but he would have stayed behind.

Catching up to the blond, who seemed to be purposely ignoring her, Selphie asked the questions that were second to the ones about Squall's health. "So, who was that man down on the ice with you?"

Seifer didn't reply. Not even blinking, he kept on walking.

"Did you guys find Rinoa?" Selphie tried again. Ignored once again, she bound ahead and skipped in front of the tall man. "What were you doing down at the beach so quickly anyway?" She grumbled when the blonde continued to deny her existence. "What did Shiva say to you?" She could be just as stubborn as anyone else. "Are you ignor-"

Cutting the insufferable messenger girl off, Seifer answered her. "Michael Garrant. Yes. We were fast to act. Shiva asked me to take care of him. I was trying to."

"Oh, who is Michael…hey! Why are you ignoring me?" the petit pilot intoned with mock anger. It took more than that to actually hurt her feelings.

"Tilmitt, stop jumping around like a rabbit," Seifer ordered, surprised when the girl listened.

Headed towards the corridor leading from the hanger, Seifer was put on edge by the exiting door that burst open, loudly connecting with the steel wall. The noise resounded in the cavernous space. Languidly, the tall form of Seifer's favorite cowboy strode closer. There was sheer venom in violet eyes, but he continued walking as though oblivious.

"Almasy," Irvine hissed. "What the hell have you done now?!"

"Irvine!" Selphie immediately reprimanded. It wasn't like Irvine to be so hostile.

Shrugging past the cowboy, Seifer silently dared the man to try and stop him.

Having watched what happened in Dollet through Nero's satellite imaging, Irvine was livid. His opposition to the ex-knight's return was the result of seeing the harassment the man put Squall through. Falling into step with the arrogant knight, he forced himself not to draw Exeter. "You were hired to protect Squall, not expose him to new dangers."

"Thanks for the update, Kinneas. I'll have to keep that in mind," Seifer retorted sarcastically.

"I'm serious, Almasy. I didn't say anything about you touching him, but if you're going to endanger his life further, I will stop you."

"Irvine Kinneas!" Selphie cried, steps rushed to keep up with the two long gated men. "If you saw the same footage that I did then you know very well that Seifer didn't do anything wrong."

Seifer didn't comment. It seemed as though the he might be treading on thin ice with the sharpshooter. Even if he enjoyed making people angry, he didn't have the time to stop and fight with the longhaired man. It was just some jealous rage that would run its course in due time. The cowboy was a playboy. Seduction was a game to the free spirited young man, one that he was not going to let Squall join in. Seifer had inadvertently opened the gunman's eyes to a new target, shedding a light on the possibility of claiming the Balamb lion.

"Why did you really come back?" Irvine asked suddenly.

If Seifer had a free hand he would have pinched the bridge of his nose. The sooner the gunman realized that it was simply jealousy behind those blooming feelings, the better off he would be.

Selphie dropped back a step and moved around behind Seifer. Grabbing Irvine's sleeve, she held the gunman back while letting Seifer continue on.

As Seifer went ahead, he heard a yelp from behind. It seemed like little Tilmitt was good for more than just flying advanced aircrafts. A grin came to his face when he heard the young woman hiss at the cowboy, something about tough love.

Though Seifer had been wary of a crowd, it was past curfew. Reaching the hanger's door, he peered out and was relieved to note the vacancy of the brightly lit fountain area. Though he couldn't stop the news from spreading, he could at least traverse to the infirmary unimpeded. His relief was short lived when the distant sound of milling cadets reached his ears. Curious teens were no doubt in a tizzy over their idol, and he could only imagine what news reports might already be circulating.

As green eyes saw one of several cadets casually walk past the Infirmary, he backed into a corner. The fountain's pouring water hid his presence. Turning around, he backtracked to the arguing couple he had left behind. "Kinneas," he called out.

Jaw clenching visibly, Irvine ground out, "Yeah, partner?" His tone earned him an elbow in the ribs from Selphie.

Quirking a brow at the gunman's odd manner, Seifer shrugged it off. "We've got a little situation near the main entrance."

Selphie stood on her tiptoes, as if her short frame could see past the fountain by straightening up a few more inches. Even though she couldn't see, she knew what Seifer was talking about. "No one else saw what happened. Why…." Her question trailed off as footsteps approached.

Reacting quickly, the three of them fell back into the corridor that led to the hanger. Seifer was furious that he was delayed in seeking Kadowaki's help for the unconscious commander. He had half a mind to waltz out there and kill anyone who so much as glanced his way. Falling short of squeezing the unconscious man in his arms too tightly, he took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Glancing at Tilmitt and Kinneas, he saw his own frustrations mirrored. "Take off your coat," he ordered abruptly, struck by genius.

"What?" Irvine asked, snapping his head up to look at the blond.

Impatient, Seifer explained hurriedly, "Carry Tilmitt to Squall's apartment. Don't let them see her face."

"Ooh," Selphie intoned with slight wonderment. "Smart," she commented, stepping from foot to foot while waiting for Irvine to take his coat off.

Reluctantly, Irvine complied, knowing well enough that it was a clever idea. Shrugging out of his brown leather duster, he paused for a moment. "Why don't you take Selphie and give me Squall?"

Seifer just laughed. "You're funny, real funny."

Violet eyes narrowed at the ex-knight. The message was clear enough. He should have known better than to ask. With a sneer in the blond's direction, he held his coat aloft for Selphie to put on.

Selphie couldn't help but giggle as Irvine swept her up into his arms.

"Don't go giggling when we walk past the early risers in the main hall," Irvine warned.

Seifer agreed, "Even the newbies know Leonhart doesn't giggle."

Selphie's voice was muffled beneath the covering of worn leather. "I still don't know how anyone could have found out so fast."

"That's not my concern right now," Seifer said, stepping back and motioning for Irvine to get going.

Reluctant to leave the commander alone when he knew what the ex-knight had done earlier, Irvine set off without further delay.

Peeking around the corner, Seifer watched as the group of early rising cadets pretended not to notice as Kinneas walked by. Shortly after the cowboy passed, the group huddled together and chattered quickly before stalking after the gunman and the supposedly injured commander.

Frowning, he knew it was hoping for too much that the whole incident would blow over. Squall would have to deal with a renewed focus on every single move made as a teenage commander. With a sigh, he moved when the coast was clear.

Dr. Kadowaki stood outside the infirmary in her long white lab coat and with her hands clasped expectantly behind her back. She greeted the ex-knight with little warmth. "What have you two done now?"

Grinning, Seifer played the part of a sheepish schoolboy. As he walked closer he nodded to her. "Aww, come on doc. You know us boys will be boys. Besides, princess here could always take a hit or two."

"So I remember," the older woman replied with sarcasm. "His usual bed is ready." Turning, she led the way inside.

Since Squall had become headmaster, he had directed funds to improve Balamb Garden, which was something a greedy Norg had neglected. The Infirmary had received major renovations. Everywhere they traveled it seemed as though there was a village or town in need of help. Dr. Kadowaki had been rather busy the past few months. Her life had never been a dull when stationed in a facility that trained mercenaries.

As a private joke between the good doctor and the injury prone commander, the bed that the brunet so often occupied had been officially designated the special quarters for commanding officers. It was almost nostalgic to see young Almasy carrying young Leonhart in again. There was something wholly different this time, she noted. The arrogant cadet she had once known was changed. The young man's manner was not as cocky and green eyes held unmasked concern.

Seifer made his way through the small hospital wing. He remembered the bed in the far corner that Squall had been known to use. He had often been the one to carry the lithe form there on several occasions. He had also frequently woken up in the very same bed. Only Kadowaki knew just how many times they had sparred and inadvertently hurt each other.

No matter how nostalgic it might have felt, too much time had passed for things to possibly be the same as they once were. Seifer was acutely aware of one major difference. Instead of quickly dropping his injured sparring partner off, he felt ardent about waiting impatiently at Leonhart's bedside until grey-blue eyes fluttered open.

Lowering the brunet's relatively small form to the secluded bed, Seifer bent down and tried to be as gentle as he could. Pulling the collar of his shrouding coat away from a pale face, he revealed the bundled man beneath. With one arm still holding the commander upright, he tugged the bedding back. Turing the sheets and blanket down, he unwrapped his long coat from around the smaller man. He quickly found that he couldn't remove his coat completely. Oddly, even while unconscious Squall had taken a grip on one of the sleeves of the black garment. When he tried to pull the bit of cloth away, delicate fingers tightened.

Seifer chuckled. It was unbelievable how stubborn the brunet could be even in such an unconscious state. Letting the younger man have his way, Seifer relented his coat. Setting Squall back against the bed, he draped the blanket over the cold form. Kadowaki was still gathering supplies. In an impromptu move, he leaned down and placed a warm kiss to the top of soft hair. Standing back he smoothed over the unruly locks, brushing the strands from his rival's forehead.

"So, Mr. Almasy, what is it this time?"

The doctor's voice was closer than he expected. Turning around Seifer faced the older woman, hoping she hadn't been standing there very long. "Hypothermia as far as I can tell, but I'm no doctor, doc."

Moving out of the woman's way, Seifer let the practiced medic work her magic. A heating blanket was draped over the commander, before the woman proceeded to check the brunet's vitals.

When the doctor seemed finished, Seifer asked incredulously, "That's it?"

"His heartbeat is a bit weak, but nothing to be concerned about. He's a strong boy, he'll be fine." The worry and concern shown by the ex-knight was curious. Personally, she had never been too fond of the blond boy who had always sent Leonhart her way for treatment, but she understood that the rivals were cautious enough to look out for each other.

"How long until he wakes up?" Seifer asked, looking beyond the doctor to the bed where Squall rested.

Packing away various instruments, Kadowaki shook her head slightly. "I don't know." Sighing, she regarded the blond with a serious expression. "For anyone else, I'd say in an hour or two. For Squall, it could be less or more. He's lost weight and has signs of exhaustion, but he's stubborn. His previous condition may or may not effect how quickly he recovers. I swear that boy is a medical anomaly." Toting her bag, she left the secluded area and made her way to her small office nearby.

Seifer scoffed at the uninformative answer. His patience was tested as he pulled a chair up along side Squall's bed and waited. It was only after a few minutes of staring at the pale face and smaller form under the blankets that he lost his patience. Standing, he checked to see where Kadowaki was. The doctor was nowhere in sight. Returning to the brunet's side, he sat down on the bed and draped an arm down to the pretty boy's head. It was easier to wait when he was gently stroking the silky strands of hair.

TBC… please review…


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Unknown Danger

"Beautiful," a husky voice murmured on the other end of the phone.

Governor Charles Fenrir furrowed his thick white brows. "Why did you want the direct feed so badly? What is this all about?" the old man asked. For ten years, he had been in office as the governor of Dollet and in all those years he hadn't had so much trouble as he had in the single night of the tidal wave.

He had been roused with an emergency call from Balamb Garden and forced to call for a citywide evacuation. Then before he could feel a moment of relief, only a short while after Commander Leonhart froze the onslaught of a catastrophe, he received another call. His adrenaline was still running, threatening to give an old man like himself a heart attack, while Reaper was on the phone. An old man could only take so much.

As a governor, he answered to no person of higher position within the city. Nonetheless, Reaper was no mere man. His heart was in his throat and he felt certain death was near, which might explain the peculiar nickname Reaper went by. He had done as bidden, which had been to upload the satellite recording of Commander Leonhart's miraculous work on the shoreline.

"You ask too many questions," the deep voice replied.

Stirred from his musings, Fenrir jumped slightly in surprise. "Yes, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." The last thing he needed was to bring Reaper's wrath upon himself.

"Thank you Charles."

"Not at all." Fenrir ran a shaky hand through his head of white frizzy hair. He had mass hysterics to deal with before breakfast and couldn't afford to lose his composure so early.

Reaper's chilling voice exhaled audibly. "So beautiful," he exclaimed.

Confused, Fenrir commented, "I'm sorry?"

"Stunning, the way he moves," was the only reply.

Frowning, Fenrir questioned the powerful man's sanity, though he never let on to such thoughts. "Are you watching the video?" By all means their conversation should be over, but he couldn't very well hang up without the go ahead.

"I must have him."

Fenrir opened his mouth to voice his confusion when his office doors suddenly burst open. "Hey!" he cried out. He was paralyzed with shock as a woman dressed from head to toe in black stalked in. The woman, whose face he couldn't even see behind the high collar and low riding hat, was the last image he ever saw.

While the phone clattered to the desk, the man on the other end listened to the gunshots and grinned. In silence Reaper waited. When he heard the phone being hung up, he knew the job was finished. Fenrir was an old sod unfit for office anyway, he had just done Dollet a favor.

Reaper continued to grin as he shut his cell phone. The room he sat in was dark, except for the lone screen hung on the wall before him. The screen held a paused image of his favorite little lion. The brunet was fighting stubbornly to aide the ice queen. There was such a pained expression of strain on that delicate and perfect face. It would seem his lion had gone through quite the struggle.

His mind filled with the different expressions he would make the young commander show: pain, lust, want, need, and ecstasy. He would make the lovely creature feel them all.

"Beautiful," he muttered again, shifting as the bulge in his pants became too uncomfortable.

--

Briefly, Squall opened his eyes before shutting them again. The light was unbearable, worsening the pounding in his head. He'd never woken up with a migraine. Wanting to go back to sleep until the pain in his skull passed, the sharp tingling in his fingers and stiffness in his limbs informed him that it might be best to wake up.

Keeping his eyes shut Squall flexed his hand, working blood to his fingers. He was surprised when a warm hand grasped his. Instinctively, his eyes opened. Regretting his actions, he groaned. Eyes shut again, he waited a moment, vaguely aware of the warm hand now squeezing his tightly.

"What's wrong?" Seifer familiar voice questioned with a very unfamiliar tone of worry.

"Cut the lights," Squall ordered, turning and smothering his face in a pillow. The ex-knight complied swiftly, releasing his hand to do so. He could hear the man's footsteps retreating before the world dimmed into wonderful darkness. It was few minutes before the nausea and flashing subsided. During that time, he'd curled up slightly and remained as still as possible. He was thankful that Seifer kept silent.

When he finally did open his eyes to the dimmed area, Squall was surprised to find a vacant chair by the bed he was in. Looking futilely around the small space, which consisted of three walls and a partially drawn curtain, he found no blond knight.

Looking at his hand he flexed it again. It wasn't a painful sensation necessarily, just odd. His nerves didn't seem to be responding so well. His sense of temperature was dulled. For a moment, he was confused to be back in Balamb Garden. After concentrating, most of the events leading up to his black out came back.

He remembered waiting in Shiva's snowy world while the ice queen took care of the wave. Unlike usual, the guardian force's world had actually felt cold. He had waited a terribly long time considering it had been a summoning. When he had returned, he had been shocked by the disturbing noises and chaotic blizzard. Shiva had not disappeared, but had actually begun to attack again. Before he had known what was going on, he had fallen while the guardian drew his energy.

Wincing as thinking too hard took its toll, Squall vaguely recalled casting Blizzagas to aide Shiva. Beyond that, there was nothing. Scornfully, he threw the blankets back. If he had been in better condition he would have lasted longer. He wasn't sure whom he was angry at, since he only had himself to blame, but he was angry nonetheless.

The curtain rustled aside. "Lay your ass back down Leonhart," Seifer commanded. Pushing the curtain all the way back he revealed Dr. Kadowaki who was behind him.

"I'm fine," Squall grumbled, making to stand up. The action had been a huge mistake. Between the head rush and increased tempo of the drumming in his head, his vision began to go dark. Gripping the back of the chair that was nearby, he tried to steady himself.

Striding forward, Seifer pulled the smaller man close before the defiant commander stumbled and fell to the floor. "Don't make me get legal on you now. Lie down and stay put," he whispered into the stubborn fighter's ear.

Pulling back as much as he could within the blond's strong arms, Squall glared up into green eyes. "Legal?" he questioned.

Grinning broadly and returning the commander's glare, Seifer replied, "Trepe had a few sketchy sections in that contract. If it concerns your health and well being, I call the shots." When bright grey-blue eyes narrowed dangerously he added, "You can argue all you like, but you signed the paper and right now I'm telling you to lie back down."

Clenching his jaw, Squall curbed his desire to lash out. Lionheart wasn't holstered anyway, which was another matter of concern. "My blade?" he asked with a tone that was dangerously low.

"Oh, did I anger the kitten that much?" Seifer goaded.

Making a noise that was very near a growl, Squall tried to shove back, but his attempts were easily thwarted by the blond's steely hold.

"Please," Seifer spoke earnestly, "for once, just listen to me." Dropping all pretense, green eyes requested cooperation.

Squall settled down, more for lack of strength than concession. He stared solemnly into jade-green eyes. Frowning, he was troubled by the serious concern he found. "I'm fine," he reassured. The older boy was really worried about him, which made it impossibly to stay angry.

"So you say, but let me be sure." Pleadingly Seifer regarded the brunet.

Breaking his gaze, Squall turned his face away and scowled at the wall. "Whatever," he eventually spoke softly. He winced slightly at his continued migraine.

Gently, Seifer ruffled the brunet's hair, noting how the delicate features of Squall's pale face contorted in pain. The look was gone quickly though. "Your head hurts?"

"Just a migraine," Squall replied.

Moving his arms away and gripping the brunet's slim shoulders, Seifer directed the commander to the bed. "Sit down."

Still standing by the opening, Dr. Kadowaki felt strangely out of place. It was as if she didn't belong there when the two rivals exchanged words. Briskly, she walked forward as soon as the commander was sitting on the edge of the bed. From her lab coat pocket she pulled a small white container. Setting her bag down she reached in for a small plastic pouch of liquid. Handing both to Squall, she waited.

Kadowaki watched keenly, observing that the commander didn't seem to have any trouble with his motor skills while opening the container for his migraine pills or opening the electrolyte water pouch.

Squall popped a couple pills into his mouth, willing them to work instantly, and took a sip of the water. His throat was parched, but other than that he didn't feel dehydrated. As the doctor took his blood pressure he asked, "When will I be discharged?"

"A few days of rest would do you good," the older woman responded, listening with her stethoscope pressed against a pale arm.

"I don't have a few days to spare," Squall replied immediately.

"You haven't suffered any major damage from hypothermia, but even before that you were in poor condition. Malnourishment and exhaustion are both very serious ailments. My recommendation is a few days of bed rest and a better diet, but I know you won't listen." Sighing, she stood up and packed her equipment away. "You never listen." Looking briefly for some sign of remorse or understanding, she shook her head. "I would ask that you remain here until tomorrow at least, but I know you won't settle for anything less than right now." Huffing with indignation, she turned to the blond. "If you can, get him to rest today." With that she left the two alone. It was frustrating to deal with either of the pair who so frequently sought her medical attention, but then refused to be treated properly.

"Stubborn fool," Seifer chastised the commander as Kadowaki walked from sight.

"That missile came from Esthar, I don't have the time to rest." Squall rubbed his temples soothingly.

The blond's eyes widened. "What?" he asked incredulously.

Squall scoffed cynically. Shaking his head, he rubbed tired eyes. "This is going to be hell," he murmured quietly. Not even a full day after he had made an alliance with Esthar, promising prospective wartime aid, and the city-nation sent a missile to Dollet. There would be no end to the inquiry and uproar.

"Are you sure?" Seifer asked, wondering when Squall had discovered this.

"Pretty sure. It wasn't one of ours and Trabia is far from operational. That only leaves Esthar," he answered while raising his head to look at Seifer.

"Galbadia," the knight suggested.

Squall shook his head, stopping abruptly. He really had to stop doing that. Cursing silently at the throbbing of his head, he explained, "It detonated early, not late. Besides, we would have heard it over head before it reached the water."

"You don't know for sure. I mean, we didn't hear it coming at all," Seifer reasoned, not adding that he had been so consumed by desire when it happened that he had considered ignoring the explosion entirely.

Placing his hands on the mattress, Squall readied himself to stand back up. "Then call it a hunch. It's just my luck that something like this would happen." In his gut, he knew it came from Esthar.

Wrapping an arm around the younger man's lower back, Seifer helped the brunet stand up. "Yeah, well, that's what you get for having that black cat of yours around."

"Careful," Squall warned with underlying mirth. "I'm beginning to like Gabriel."

"Beginning? Why have it in the first place if you didn't like it?" the blond remarked dubiously, walking forward with the brunet at his side.

Squall answered evenly, "Rinoa found Gabriel in Timber. He isn't my cat."

Seifer's eyes narrowed suddenly in serious thought. "Did you love her?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. Mentally he cringed as he felt Squall's body stiffen in his hold.

Standing straight, Squall kept his eyes trained forward. He was a little embarrassed at the obvious conclusion he had come to regarding his recently ended relationship with Rinoa. Biting the bullet, he admitted, "I thought I did. I thought I was in love…." he trailed off as he steeled himself to say the last bit, "I was just confused though. I don't what it is to be in love."

Understanding dawning, Seifer felt his mouth open slightly. The pale man was looking intensely forward and a very faint blush dusked smooth cheeks. The brunet was embarrassed at not being able to understand the intricacies of the heart. The demure admission was one of the most endearing things he had ever heard. Unable to stop himself, he turned Squall's pretty little face upwards. Leaning down he pressed his lips to the commander's soft ones. Knowing he couldn't start anything with the younger man in such a condition, he mumbled, "Do you have any idea how cute you are?"

Not pulling back from the blond's kiss, Squall wondered what his rival was thinking. It suddenly occurred to him that they were standing in the middle of the infirmary where anyone could waltz in. "Do you have any idea how close you are to a painful death?" he hissed back.

Soft chuckling filled the air as Seifer finally broke away from enticing lips. A simple kiss was far from quenching his thirst, but it would have to suffice. If he was to be around the brunet all day he could grope the weary man to no end. A playful smirk came to his face as he resumed their walking. The faster they reached the apartment, the sooner he could have some fun. It was his duty to make sure Leonhart stayed in bed, so naturally he would join the stubborn commander.

"Where's Lionheart?" Squall asked as the infirmary door swished open.

"It was on Ragnarok, but I asked Tilmitt to take care of it a bit ago, so I imagine it's in your room."

As the doors closed behind them, Squall could hear the usual bustling of a busy garden. A quick glance at his watch told him it was seven. Filled with dread, he realized his departure from the infirmary was just in time for the cadets to be finishing their breakfast and heading off to class. Before they moved out into the open, Seifer held him back. Quirking a brow questioningly, he waited for an explanation.

Looking apologetic, Seifer said, "I should warn you, that little stunt you pulled earned another year worth of muckrakers and fangirls."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Squall wondered whether he would ever be able to live a quiet life of solitude. "Wait until they hear about Esthar," he replied cynically.

Seifer hummed his agreement while motioning for the brunet to stay put. The younger man defiantly stood straight, refusing to lean against the wall. Rolling his eyes, he moved along the corridor towards the gushing sound of water. Nearing the fountain, he stepped from the secluded hallway and into the circular spacious center of garden. There were indeed young cadets mulling about, mainly near the cafeteria, which was unfortunately close by.

Finding his predicament to be quite ridiculous, Squall refused to be restricted from walking around freely simply because of appearances. Biting his lip against the intensified pounding in his head, he strode forth to meet Seifer. The blond turned unexpectedly and moved back to his side. "No, I can walk fine," he said, shaking the knight's hold off.

Frowning, Seifer let the stubborn man have his way and opted to walk closely instead. As expected, every set of eyes turned their way. The chattering died down only to be replaced with hushed whispers.

Groaning inwardly, Squall easily ignored the attention and focused his mind on keeping each step balanced. The walk was short, but tiresome. With sheer force of will, he remained composed until finally reaching the elevator.

"Commander!" a voice shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Seifer and Squall turned to see who had called. It was Rui, with his dark hair looking unkempt and a blanched expression of worry on his youthful face. In a quick blur, the boy sprinted up the stairs and leapt forward at the commander, only to be intercepted by Seifer.

"Ah, brute! Let go!" Rui yelled in defiance. The sorceress' knight was holding him aloft as though weightless. Wriggling frantically, he managed to escape the man's grasp and land on the ground. "Commander!" he cried again, moving forward.

Seifer thwarted the thief's attempt again, this time with one arm. He looked to the commander for concession to throw the kid down the stairs, but the brunet simply shrugged his shoulders innocently. Frowning Seifer felt a little angry that Squall didn't seem as opposed to the kid's actions as he thought he would be. "Fine," he grumbled, releasing the thief.

Once released, Rui pitched forward and wrapped his arms around the commander's lean torso.

Seifer almost laughed at the wide-eyed and flustered expression that crossed Squall's face. It seemed the brunet was slow on the uptake and hadn't been expecting that. His anger melted away as he realized that the pretty boy hadn't known what the thief would do.

"Uh, Rui…." Squall trailed off feeling terribly awkward and more than embarrassed as everyone within sight froze to stare.

"I heard what happened and I was worried," the dark haired boy explained with his face pressed against the commander's chest.

The elevator dinged open at that moment, and Seifer hurriedly ushered the pair in. Rui was effectively glued to Squall, who was rendered helpless by such affection.

Furrowing his brows, Squall fought to reason out the right thing to do. No one had ever dared to hug him, except for Selphie and Laguna on rare occasions. Rinoa hadn't even hugged him, only clung to his arm until his fingers went numb. He had never had to deal with little kids or anyone younger than himself. Finally, Squall came to the conclusion that Rui wasn't going to let go unless he gave the boy some sort of consolation. "I'm fine," he stated while hesitantly patting the dark hair atop the boy's head.

The only response was a muffled question, "Do you promise?"

"He's still recovering you little thief, so back off before you make it worse," Seifer growled, folding his arms in an intimidating manner.

Rui released his hold promptly, backing away to glare mulishly at the blond knight. Expression changing as he glanced to the commander, he gazed reverently. "I'm going to become a SeeD," he stated proudly, as if the fact would heal Squall instantly.

Squall couldn't help but chuckle at the annoyed expression on Seifer's face. It seemed that Rui affected Seifer just as the blond had affected Squall when they were still cadets. "Is that so?" he asked with as much good nature as he could muster under the slightly straining circumstances. "I'm glad to hear that." He even offered a small smile.

Seifer watched as the thief's eyes glazed over with what could only be adoration for the brunet. He kept his arms folded, but now it was more for a pout than intimidation.

TBC…


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Behind the Scenes

Even without the curious eyes of cadets and staff alike, Squall walked without any helping hands back to his apartment.

"Is it true you stopped a huge tsunami just by casting a spell?" Rui asked blithely as he walked along with the two older boys.

Pausing mid step, Squall looked down to the raven haired boy and answered, "No."

"Oh…." Rui commented, trailing off with uncertainty. "Then what happened?" He was far from deterred by the commander's lack of enthusiasm.

Seifer could tell that Kadowaki's pills hadn't begun to work yet. The brunet seemed to be working to keep an impassive expression on that pretty face. For whatever insane reason, Squall seemed to like Rui to some extent. Out of the goodness of his heart, or simply because he didn't want to hear the kid's voice, he answered in the commander's stead before the boy continued asking questions. "It was Shiva," he muttered, glaring balefully.

"Shiva?" Rui questioned, still regarding the commander as though the blond's words had come from him.

"Shiva is a guardian force," Seifer explained. Fists clenching, he forced himself not to attack the thief when he saw dark brown eyes gazing at Squall's profile intently, as though still waiting for the brunet to answer. What did Squall see in the kid anyway? "Hey kid, I'm over here." He motioned with his hand to catch the impudent boy's attention.

Glaring, Rui's steps faltered a bit under the returned malevolence in the knight's eyes. Shifting subtly closer to the commander, he turned his attention to the boy with kind eyes.

Growling, Seifer very nearly walloped the brat. "Impudent, little, thieving, half-pint," he grumbled under his breath, knowing he shouldn't start something when his main concern was to put Leonhart in bed. While the kid seemed deathly afraid of him, it was all okay so long as the commander was near by, which implied the boy was under the impression that he was weaker than his rival. He was quite insulted.

The tension was evident between Seifer and Rui, but Squall ignored it. They were nearly to his apartment. It was almost a relief to finally make it. Inside the quiet apartment, the silence was short lived when the knight and thief came to the entrance.

"Stay out brat," Seifer ordered before pressing the button to quickly shut the door.

Rui was too fast, quickly sliding past the narrowing space and into the commander's apartment. "It's not your apartment," he grumbled loud enough for the knight to hear.

Groaning, Seifer reached into his pocket. Not finding what he was looking for there, he turned around and looked along the wall behind him. Tilmitt had kindly taken a moment to retrieve not only the gunblades from Ragnarok, but also his coat from the infirmary. She had only spared a moment to visit Squall, before he had ushered the bouncy woman out with their unnecessary garments and weapons. Now the coat hung along the entryway wall.

Reaching inside his coat pocket, Seifer pulled his cell phone out. Flipping it open, he dialed a long stream of numbers before placing the phone to his ear. "It's me…" he spoke quietly, not loud enough for the thief or commander to hear. "Naw, the princess is fine…" He smirked while listening. "It's a new nickname I got for him… Yeah, try that and he'd kill you… Listen, I need you to come by for a minute. I got a kid here who needs to start learning the basics and some respect."

Expecting his bidding to be done, Seifer hung up. Raijin was on the way over. If Rui had a problem with his physique, he couldn't wait until the brat got a look at Raijin. Conveniently, he could ask his trusted friend what happened with the follow up on the reporter from the conference. Grinning to himself, he walked farther into the apartment.

The pale form of the brunet stood before the small seating area that viewed into the kitchen. Squall held a hand to his temple, massaging it. Grimacing, he tried his best to keep all anger and annoyance from his voice. It was more difficult to deal with the younger boy since he had no patience, but felt obligated to some level of amicability. "Rui, it's not necessary," he tried to reason with the determined boy.

From where Seifer stood behind the commander, he could see the raven-haired brat messing with a pan on the stove. Grumbling, he set his hands on the shorter man's shoulders and forcefully directed him to the couch. "Sit and rest like a good kitten," he ordered.

With his last threads of patience wearing thin, Squall cringed and growled out, "Almasy." He sat down regardless, as his head still throbbed and his limbs felt ready to cramp up on him. "I'm resting my eyes until my headache is gone, then I'm going to my office." He defended his compliance with the knight's command by masking it as his own actions. Before he lie down completely he stopped and added, "Don't let Rui make me breakfast."

Chuckling slightly at the brunet's inability to deal with the thieving brat, Seifer easily forgave Squall for the favor previously bestowed upon the kid. It would seem he'd misjudged the situation. What he'd seen as uncommon affection had just been the commander's social ineptitude.

Striding into the kitchen, Seifer stopped the brat right before the first egg was broken. "Out of the kitchen kid."

Holding an egg aloft, Rui glared up at the knight. "I'm making breakfast," he pointed out.

"And what right do you have to be here in the commander's apartment in the first place?" Seifer snapped.

"Same right as you," Rui snapped back, setting the egg in the bowl he had been about to crack it over.

Laughing, Seifer looked at the dark haired boy with false amusement. He could handle the situation in one of two ways. Either he could yell and physically throw the thief out, or he could reason calmly and make Squall happier for it. "I've known Squall since he was four years old," he said in a tone that implied a challenge. He smirked at the attentive look Rui's dark eyes gave him.

True to the thief's word, it would seem the kid hadn't known anything about current world events. It wasn't uncommon knowledge that Commander Leonhart and Ultimecia's knight had a history. Most people didn't know the assorted details.

"I'm not doin' a lick of harm," Rui defended, falling back into his city accent.

Sighing, Seifer ran a hand through his hair. Regarding the boy seriously, he said, "I know. But there are a lot of things you don't know yet. Right now, this Epson guy you came here for is a thorn in all our sides." He shifted with annoyance when he saw a slightly guilty look overcome youthful features. "Aside from that, there are a million other problems he's got on his plate right now. It's my job to make sure nothing happens to him, so let me do it."

Grumbling, Rui flipped the stove's burner off and stood with his arms crossed. "I don't like you," he hissed.

"Not many people do," Seifer replied. He grinned as he felt that for once he was getting under the kid's skin. "He's resting now, so don't disturb him. Just leave."

Narrowing his dark eyes, Rui regarded the blond with caution. Mouth moving without consulting his brain, he muttered, "Why, so you can rape him?" He stiffened, cursing his inability to hold his tongue.

Slapping at hand to his forehead, Seifer fought the urge to kill the kid. "Smart ass," he called, unable to keep his mouth in check.

"Pervert," Rui quipped, loud enough for the commander to hear in the other room.

"Kid," Seifer began holding his hands up and gesturing threateningly with tightening fists, "I'm going to kill you. I swear to Hyne, I'm gonna kill you." He of course wasn't at his breaking point just yet, and refrained from laying a hand on the insolent brat, but he was close. Closing his eyes briefly, he calmed his annoyance. "I've got a friend coming by." His mood lightened at the prospect of Rui seeing Raijin. "You won't be starting classes until next semester, but I'm a generous guy, so I thought I'd give you the chance to get ahead of the game."

Rui shifted uncomfortably, wondering if the ex-knight were still going to kill him. Feigning indifference, he scoffed and intoned, "Ahead of the game?"

"An instructor to teach you the basics," Seifer supplied, praying that Raijin got there before the world held one less deviant. "That is, if you were really serious about becoming a SeeD."

"I am," Rui defended.

There was a sharp knock on the door. Seifer fought to hide a mischievous smirk. "Then I'm sure you'll take this chance to make the dear commander proud."

Raijin had been surprised upon meeting Rui, but not nearly as surprised as Rui was to meet him. He gave Seifer an odd look of question when the kid seemed to go rigid and just stared at him.

"He's a big fan of yours," Seifer assured mockingly. "Before I send you two off, what's the word from Fu?"

"Oh, nothing dangerous, ya know? Just some nosy pencil pusher," Raijin supplied, having figured that the mindful ex-knight would want to know about the gossiping journalist. The clipped papers in his hand were all the information that Fujin had collected. He handed these off to his blond friend before crossing his arms and waiting.

Flipping through the pages, Seifer nodded in approval. "Thanks. Now, young Valdez here is a promising lad." He clapped an amicable hand to the stiff back of an aghast Rui. "He be eager to learn the ropes, as it were."

It was the sarcastic pirate like speech that clued Raijin into some sort of ulterior motive of the arrogant. "Right," he commented, eyeing the ex-knight with suspicion. The poor kid looked closer to fainting with each passing moment.

"He's just a little shy." Seifer pushed Rui forward, forcing the boy to take an unwarranted step.

Rui suddenly snapped out of his shocked daze, breaking his dead stare from King Kong back to the vacant looking couch. Knowing the brunet was still there, he tried to run that way. "Commander!" he shouted.

Clamping a hand over Rui's mouth, Seifer lifted the boy into the air easily and stepped into the hall. The papers he carried became crumpled with each flailing limb of the thief's. "I don't care what you do with him," he spoke to Raijin, who was quick to follow behind. "Just get him away from here. The princess needs some sleep, which is next to…" He paused mid sentence. With a huff, he released Rui a bit roughly as the boy stumbled a few steps away. "Which is next to impossible with this loud mouth fangirl around," he finished.

Straightening up, Rui puffed out his chest. "I'm no fangirl you perverted brute!" If he were smart, he would make a run for it. Sadly, he had no safe place to go except for back inside the commander's apartment, and the entrance was blocked by the man he should be running from.

"Can't say I follow what's going on, ya know?" Raijin said, standing beside Seifer.

"Teach him something worthwhile for the day," Seifer instructed. Leaning forward, he emphasized his next words, "Like respect!"

Rui stuck his tongue and huffed indignantly.

Raijin laughed with amusement. "He reminds me of you," the big man commented.

Raijin's words brought both Rui and Seifer to an immediate standstill.

"I'm nothing like him!" the two chorused at the same time.

Slapping his knee, Raijin was doubled over with laughter. "T-too good, ya-ya know?" he choked out as tears formed in his eyes.

Cursing under his breath, Seifer clutched the pile of papers tightly and stalked back into the apartment. Trusting Raijin to take care of the thief, he sulked over the brief encounter. Grabbing a chilled bottle of water from the fridge, he made his way over to the couch.

The curled form of the brunet barely took up little more than a single cushion. Carefully sitting down on the other end, Seifer propped his feet on the coffee table and flipped the TV on. Papers in hand, he idly glanced at them while taking a sip of the water and muting the sound so as not to disturb the sleeping lion. His eyes skimmed the jotted notes. The reporter he had sent Fujin to tag was simply a common variety muckraker. Sure enough though, the guy would not be welcomed back to any press conferences.

The flashing images on the TV screen caught his attention. Looking up he watched as a pretty woman with honey blonde hair and a bit too much makeup anchored for a news station. Noticing the icon in the bottom right of the screen he knew he was watching a station airing from Timber. Oddly enough, Timber seemed to be at the forefront of broadcasting. With the sound off, he read the lips of the anchorwoman, finding the bright crimson tinge of lipstick rather distasteful compared to Squall's naturally roseate lips. Her mouth moved to spout off words about exclusive coverage from Dollet on the missile incident.

"They're fast," Seifer commented. A year ago it would have taken a few days for any story to break publicly, mostly because telecasting was not a device used very often.

Since the war began, people had taken a greater interest in television and the immediate news such broadcasting brought. Considering the war was over, shows wholly unrelated to the news had flooded the airwaves. Almost every channel was like going to the theatre.

What he saw on the screen was of little interest. He had seen it all up close earlier that morning. The news was now broadcasting images of the water with chunks of ice in it, which wasn't nearly as awing a sight as when the ice had still been shaped like a giant cresting wave.

Leaning back, Seifer flipped through a few channels looking for a station featured in Dollet. In his opinion, Dollet's news stations would have the most accurate and up to date information. Finding what he was looking for, he nearly upset the papers in his lap by standing quickly. Looking cautiously to the soundly sleeping commander, he quietly turned the television off and moved to the kitchen.

Flipping his phone open, Seifer cursed when he realized he didn't know Trepe's number. He opted to call Fujin instead. Keeping his voice lowered, he stood near the window while absently looking outside. He waited while the other end rang.

The other end picked up. "Hey Fu, it's me," Seifer greeted in a tone that implied business, regardless of its familiarity.

"Seifer," hissed the voice on the other end. "I'm in the middle of class."

"So turn your phone off." His remark was instinctive, but once he realized that the tightlipped woman might choose to hang up and take his advice, he quickly continued, "I need Trepe's number."

"How's the Commander?" Fujin asked in a muffled voice.

Rolling his eyes, Seifer indulged his friend, "Sleeping like a baby. Do you want to put me on the speaker so I can tell your students personally?"

"I doubt they'd believe the words of Ultimecia's knight," the unusually loquacious woman joked.

"The number?" Seifer pressed.

Fujin spouted off Quistis' cell number. Knowing Seifer well enough, she knew when the man was in a hurry.

"Thanks," the blond muttered before hanging up and calling the head instructor.

"Trepe," the strict instructor answered on the first ring.

"Hey sweetheart," Seifer murmured, grinning at his salutation.

"Oh, it's you," the head instructor replied lamely.

Mood sobering, Seifer gazed out at churning waves before stating, "I thought we might have a chat about the late Governor Fenrir."

"I'm afraid I won't be much of a good conversationalist on that, I only just found out myself," Quistis informed gravely.

Frowning, Seifer leaned against the wall beside the window and glanced into the living room to make sure Squall was still out of sight. "Well I'm sure we can brainstorm a few ideas here."

"Give me a few minutes and I'll be right there," the mature woman suggested, knowing the ex-knight had returned to the commander's apartment after leaving the infirmary with a prematurely discharged patient.

"No, we can talk like this. I just put our baby down for the night and I don't want to wake him." There was silence for a moment, but Seifer heard stifled laughing in the background.

"Don't let Squall hear you talking like that, he's liable to run you through," Quistis said with mirth. There was only one person in the entire world who ever talked about Squall in such a carefree manner. She hadn't heard such comments since before the war, it was oddly refreshing.

"Our baby thinks the missile was from Esthar and now Fenrir is dead. I'm no expert, but I'd say something is going on," Seifer said solemnly.

"You have no idea," Quistis replied, sighing heavily.

TBC… 0o


	22. Chapter 22

**Warning: **This chapter contains adult content. If you are underage, discontinue reading.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Anatomy 101

For all intents and purposes, Squall had not meant to fall asleep. As he began to wake up and his eyes fluttered open, he felt much better for his mistake. His headache was gone and while he was a bit stiff and his muscles were starting to feel sore, he felt as though he had his strength back.

A day ago he would have sat up with flustered anger and rushed off to his office. Instead, he sat up slowly with a strange calmness. He tentatively tested his limbs. All his muscles felt like he'd been working out a little too harshly, but that was the extent of it. It was likely the aftereffect of prolonged summoning.

Rubbing his face and throwing off the last remnants of sleep, Squall stretched languidly. It felt good, arching his back and working away all dystrophy. Curiously, he looked around the apartment. He didn't think Seifer would be very far away. In fact, he had expected to see the blond beside him on the couch.

Finding the ex-knight, blue eyes flecked with grey met serious looking jade ones. Seifer was in the kitchen with a cell phone to his ear.

Seifer stood in the middle of a hushed conversation with Trepe. While going behind closed doors would have been more suitable, he wouldn't have been able to keep an eye on the sleeping beauty in the other room. Once those pretty eyes found his, he felt a wave of warmth wash over him. Inside, his heart was thumping with the joy that came from watching the brunet wake up and search for his presence before all else.

"I'll have to get back to you," Seifer finally spoke, effectively ending his conversation with the head instructor. Snapping the phone shut he regarded Squall with in impish grin. "Don't fret, you weren't out for much more than an hour."

Silently Squall took in the blond's information and gave a small nod. It was relieving knowing he hadn't been out for long, just long enough for his headache to recede. Knowing that his bossy caretaker would object obstinately, he gave the man the benefit of saying what he planned to do beforehand. "I'm going to my office."

With a knowing smirk, Seifer sauntered away from the window. Walking from the kitchen to the main flat, he approached the couch. "You'd like to think that," he stated matter-of-factly.

Frowning, Squall glared. He intended to leave with or without the older boy's approval. Without replying to the pushy and controlling ex-knight, he stood up walked into his bedroom. Mentally listing what he would need, he remembered the progress reports he had brought to his room the other night. He needed to find his boots. He had no idea where they might be or when he had taken them off.

The stack of folders rested untouched on his desk. Sighing he grabbed them, knowing he should have already finished logging them.

With great care for silence, Seifer snuck up on the stubborn commander.

Squall jumped slightly when strong arms suddenly wrapped around him. He was annoyed at his own surprise. "Seifer," he bit out in reprimand. His body did not listen to his mind. Warmth spread through him as the blond pressed flush against him, nuzzling his neck.

Noting the cleanly fresh scent of the sea, Seifer decided he would like to taste his former rival. Nipping lightly at a slender neck, he asked, "Feeling better?"

As the blond's hands roamed lower, sneaking under his shirt, Squall found himself hard pressed to answer coherently. "Nnh," he gasped as calloused fingers brushed over a sensitive nipple. His body was reacting so strongly and Seifer had launched the assault so quickly that he'd hardly time to keep his thoughts intact. "Much," he finally managed.

Grinning wolfishly into the crook of the commander's neck, Seifer whispered, "We were interrupted before, and I'd say I've been a patient man."

Swallowing thickly, Squall fought through the wayward haze of stirring lust. "I have to contact President Loire," he reasoned, but for all his verbal protests he couldn't make his body move away.

"Later," Seifer whispered into the brunet's ear, before tonguing it.

A shudder wracked Squall's body. His breathing came in short gasps as he struggled to keep focus.

Like the devil's advocate, Seifer did his best to sway the stubborn brunet. "Trepe is handling everything fine for now. You need rest and time to recuperate." Sucking on an earlobe, he tweaked a pert nipple while his other hand caressed a toned stomach. With enough sensations running through the lithe body, Squall wouldn't be able to tell him what day of the week it was.

Far from being the fool, Squall knew exactly what Seifer was trying to do. Truthfully he had been convinced the moment the blond pressed his lips against his neck. It was still early and Quistis was proving herself more than capable at running garden affairs. Still, he resented his lack of control.

While his upper body was held tightly in place, Squall was free to move everything else. Grinding back against his captor, he distinctly felt the unmistakable bulge that was testimony to just what the blond wanted with him. The arrogant man's arms suddenly clutched at him a bit too tightly, stilling any further movement he might have done.

"Hyne," Seifer hissed out. The inexperienced boy had no idea what he was doing. Rubbing against him like that, the commander was begging to be screwed senseless. Resuming his fondling, he trailed a hand lower, skimming the waistband of Squall's jeans. He could feel the muscles contract at his touch. Leaning his head forward, he trailed his lips along the brunet's jaw.

Squall angled his head to the side, allowing the older boy better access. While Seifer's hand trailed precariously close to the height of his arousal, he was disappointed when the blond took that hand away. Instead, his shoulders were seized and he was turned around swiftly. Pushed back by a forceful ex-knight, he abruptly made contact with the desk's edge. Before he could voice question, he was kissed fiercely.

Seifer couldn't even begin to describe the joy of kissing Squall. He had become addicted to it the first moment the brunet had pressed those soft lips willingly to his own.

Being swept along, Squall parted his lips at the first feel of the blond's seeking tongue. The older boy's tongue was hot and slick against his own, possessive in its consuming nature. He felt intoxicated.

Seifer's arms wrapped around Squall's slim body, trying to press closer while also trying to feel every inch of the man he was kissing.

Leaning back, Squall broke away to take deep breaths. The ex-knight was in a similar state of breathlessness, but seemed reluctant to stop. Looking up into reverent green eyes, he raked his fingers across the blond's broad chest. Urged on by the man's hitching breath, he continued to indulge his curious hands. Tracing along Seifer's jaw he felt the first hints of stubble on the tanned skin. "You need to shave," he commented observantly.

Green eyes narrowed and regarded Squall in a rather serious manner. Mimicking the brunet's gesture, he cupped a pale cheek and brushed his thumb back in forth. Feeling the smoothness of pale skin beneath his calloused fingers he was left wondering. "You don't," he returned curiously.

As if seeing the question written in green eyes, Squall affirmed, "I don't have to."

Chuckling softly, Seifer quirked a brow in an antagonistic manner. "Puberty boy," he mocked.

Though a large array of biting comments came to mind, Squall chose a more pleasing approach. Turning into the blond's caressing hand, he took the unsuspecting man's thumb into his mouth and sucked on it while bucking his hips against Seifer's.

Groaning, Seifer's eyes fluttered shut for a moment. "I want you," he blurted out as if in confession.

Releasing the ex-knight's thumb, Squall looked up questioningly. "And I suppose you have this sort of reaction with those you don't want?" Reaching down he wedged a hand between their touching pelvises and cupped the large bulge in Seifer's pants. He could hardly believe his own brashness, but he wasn't exactly thinking straight.

Seifer reacted disconcertedly, rashly grabbing the pretty boy's wrist and pulling the bold hand away. While he was steadily losing control on account of the enticing commander, he fought to keep himself in check and not do anything too roughly. It was a losing battle when Squall had no clue how sexy he was.

Letting the delicate hand go, Seifer gently reached up to cup his former rival's face and stare into bright blue-grey eyes. It was difficult to express his standing to his new little sex demon, since this particular demon wasn't well rehearsed in regards to sex. Patiently, those lovely eyes held his gaze and waited for him to explain his adverse reaction. Even after watching those sultry lips sucking him off, he couldn't help but wonder just how far Squall was willing to go.

Stepping back, Seifer brought Squall with him away from the desk. Deftly, he slid a hand down the smooth skin of the younger man's lower back and beneath the loose waist of denim pants and boxers. Daring to move lower, he groped the warm flesh that he had constantly ogled since his return, but so rarely touched. While kneading supple flesh, he leaned forth and whispered, "I want to be inside of you." Gently, his fingers slid between the inviting cleft and pressed ever so lightly against the puckered ring he wanted to be thrusting into at that very moment.

Seifer wasn't sure what reaction to expect. Considering where they had been heading just last night, it was rather obvious that having sex together was the objective. Logically, Squall would have already known this. If the endearingly innocent boy hadn't known before then he most certainly did now.

Squall was no expert on sex, especially sex with another man. He did have basic knowledge on a biological level. He had known where the road Seifer and he were sprinting down led. As he felt fingers pressing against his entrance, he couldn't help but feel extremely curious and excited. He wondered how pleasurable the stimulation to his prostate would be. The pleasure he had been shown the night before had been beyond his inexperienced imaginings.

With his curiosity struck, Squall conceded that he would like to at least give it a try. He could take pain well enough and if it brought no pleasure then at least Seifer would enjoy it. It was a rather arousing thought to imagine the blond thrusting into him. After the ex-knight had brought him to orgasm in Dollet, he trusted Seifer to show him more. Hardly needing to have his inhibitions worn down, he arched back against the bold hand in his pants, driving himself harder onto to those lightly pressing fingers. Holding the gaze of green eyes, he asked as impassively as he could, "And if I want you inside of me?" His chest was heaving slightly, his body overwrought with arousal and desire.

For a moment Seifer forgot how to breathe. All the blood seemed to drain from his head and rush south. Clenching his teeth, he gulped dryly and willed his libido to calm down. He would not repeat incident of premature ejaculation. It was difficult though. He had never been with someone who turned him on so much. "When I'm done with you, you won't be able to walk to your office any time soon," he declared. With a final squeeze of Squall's shapely ass, he proceeded to grab the hem of the brunet's shirt and lift it upwards.

"Is that a challenge?" Squall questioned before raising his arms to let the blond take his shirt off.

Discarding the piece of clothing somewhere on the floor, Seifer moved on to unbuttoning the brunet's jeans. Perhaps there should be a new rule that while inside the apartment Squall wasn't allowed to wear clothes. "Not a challenge, just a guarantee," he replied huskily.

"I feel rather underdressed," Squall commented as his pants were pushed down, boxers and all. Impatiently, he went right for the blond's pants.

While Squall undid his zipper, Seifer reached back and yanked his shirt of over his head. Stepping back, he let the brunet follow.

By the time the aroused pair made it to the bed, they were both fully undressed and unable to keep their hands off one another. The warm feel of skin was yet another sensation they weren't used to from each other.

Sitting on the edge, Seifer happily took the brunet into his lap and continued to delve into that sweet mouth.

Straddling muscular thighs, Squall's stiffened member rubbed against the ex-knight's. As his length throbbed for release and stronger friction, he ground his hips. He moaned with the increased friction. A smile graced his face as he saw Seifer's green eyes close part way with pleasure.

Breaking away briefly, Seifer asked in a husky voice, "Do you have the Vaseline for Lionheart in here?"

"In the gunblade case," Squall answered, kissing the older boy again.

"Lie down on your stomach," Seifer instructed, his voice thick with lust.

Taking a moment to search impossibly green eyes, Squall considered the odd instruction, but remembered the pleasure was likely to follow if he simply trusted the ex-knight. Complying, he shifted out of the tanned fighter's lap and onto the bed. Feeling somewhat awkward, he lay down. Resting his head on his forearms, he looked to the side and waited for some indication of what to do next. Silently, he watched as the nude blond rummaged through his gunblade case on the other side of the room.

Given a few moments to think clearly, Squall suddenly realized why his rival wanted the petroleum. Sighing to calm his thumping heart, he reminded himself that Seifer knew he was a virgin and had never done anything like this before. It was safe to assume Seifer understood his lack of knowledge and would lead him along.

Seifer found the small jar quickly enough. The convenience of having weapons to maintain was that there was always some basic lubrication on hand. He had never imagined using the jelly like substance on anything except his gunblade, and especially not on his rival. As he turned around and spotted the lithe form awaiting his return, he knew he would never be able to use petroleum jelly on Hyperion again without becoming hard.

Unpracticed when it came to sex with men, Seifer sauntered back confidently. He was skilled enough to make it good. Grabbing a pillow, he instructed, "Lift your hips for a second." Licking his lips at the sight of the younger man's weeping cock, he carefully placed the pillow underneath the enticing the commander's hips.

Feeling acutely aware of his nude state, Squall felt as though he were on display. With a final look over his shoulder, he settled down with anxious anticipation and relinquished all control to Seifer. Even though he couldn't see what the blond was doing, he could feel it all. The older boy kept rough hands in contact with his body the entire time, most likely to let him know what was going on. The heated touch was scorching, serving to send shudders through him as his anticipation mounted.

Slowly, Seifer caressed the smooth skin of Squall's back, traveling lower in a defiantly time consuming manner. He would not be a slave to his lust. He would relish and appreciate the delicious sight and feel of the fighter's bared body. Rather quickly, his resolve crumbled. When he'd finally reached his southern destination, his cock twitched with excitement. He was already leaking precum, the pearly drops mounting and sliding down his sensitive member. Opening the small container, Seifer scooped a dollop of the lube onto his fingers. With a steadying breath, he prayed to Hyne that his conceptions were as accurate as he thought.

Squall bit his lip at the first feel of the cool gel against his opening. The touch warmed quickly though, as gentle fingers smoothed it over. Tentatively, he felt the first penetration of the blond's finger. Knowing Seifer was trying to gauge his reaction, he gave an encouraging squirm backwards, driving the finger deeper. It was strangely pleasurable and arousing.

Though Squall was the one being played with, it was Seifer who moaned. As the blond nudged his finger deeper, down to the knuckle, tight muscles resisted. "Relax," he cooed, unsure how long he could hold out.

Trying to relax, Squall found it difficult. Eventually, he managed to settle down with a deep exhaling breath. Pressing his head to the mattress, he fought to keep calm when the ex-knight's finger pulled out and pushed back in. His pleasure was more mental than physical. The idea of what they were doing was what excited him.

Seifer could tell from the tenseness of the brunet's body that Squall had yet to feel the perks of anal sex. Two fingers would probably help more. With as much care as he could, he inserted a second finger. The entrance was slick, but still far too small to accommodate the girth of any man's penis, let alone his proudly endowed member. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched the tight opening.

Biting his lip, Squall felt a small pang of pain. When the blond stopped stretching his opening and pressed the two fingers deeper, he felt a surprising jolt of real pleasure. Better than any small buck he might have given to increase the friction against his cock, the jolt sent tingling shivers to his groin. When the action was repeated, he moaned involuntarily and shivered.

Smirking, Seifer was glad he'd found the right spot. He brushed over the same area once more, earning a bucking motion against his hand. Voyeuristically watching the ice prince experience pleasure sent a warm shudder through him and reminded just how much his engorged cock wanted release.

Knowing that it was likely going to the same with any virgin regardless of gender, Seifer was grateful for his rival's high pain tolerance. Adding yet another finger, he stretched and pushed deeper into the tight opening. Pain would accompany pleasure, but with time Squall would become used to it. He couldn't help but grin at the thought of future sessions between them.

"S-Seifer," Squall gasped out, feeling himself overwhelmed with the varying sensations. The tight invasion was painful, but somewhere inside the blond managed to rake over his prostate again and send shivers of pleasure along his spine. But as soon as the pleasure came, it was gone. He wanted more of that feeling so badly. It felt so damn good. Sweet spot stroked again, he couldn't contain a quiet whimper of need. It was still too fleeting and an aching need was growing inside of him. "Please," he finally called out.

Stilling his ministrations, Seifer was afraid Squall had decided to back out. "Please what?" he asked, not sure what the brunet meant.

For the first time, Squall felt a flush of shame. It sure had an odd sense of timing to show up now. The absence of slowly thrusting fingers pushed him to voice his desires. "I want more," he admitted, glad that Seifer was unable to see his face at the moment.

Swallowing the thick lump in his throat, Seifer questioned in a rather choked voice, "More?"

"Just put it in," Squall managed, wishing his voice didn't sound so needy.

"Fucking Hyne Squall," Seifer cursed, not really angry with the younger man. Abruptly removing his fingers, the brunet gave a stifled sound of disappointment. It was perhaps too good to be true. Better than any dream he'd ever had, the newest holder of his infatuation was displayed before him and asking to be fucked. "You'll be the death of me," he breathed out as he positioned himself and quickly coated his length in the slick gel.

With his hands on either side of slim hips, Seifer guided Squall to his knees, so that they were met on equal grounding. Heart pounding and mind dazed with lust, he caressed a gentle hand along the smooth skin of Squall's back. The head of his cock rubbed along the cleft of the brunet's ass, seeking entrance.

Feeling emptiness and longing at the absence of Seifer's fingers, Squall became suddenly apprehensive at the feel of the blond's hot member pressed against him. Slowly, the head of the engorged penis pushed its way in, gliding in easily enough at first. Resistance came instinctively and he was quickly overwhelmed. The intrusion was far larger than he expected.

Seifer groaned in ecstasy at the tightness and sweet warmth his pushed into. It was too good to be anything but sinful, the sort of pleasure that was banned for its addictiveness. Needing his whole cock to be encased in gripping heat, he paused for only a moment before thrusting forward and sheathing himself entirely.

"Nngh!" Squall gasped and clenched the blanket beneath him tightly. He felt like he was being split. Hyne it hurt, far more than he had thought possible. He wanted to tell the blond that it was too big, but he bit his lip instead and held his protest. They had gone too far not to finish.

Panting with a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, Seifer asked, "Are you okay?" Leaning over he trailed a soft kissed along a pale shoulder. The brunet was very still and tense. He was afraid he had hurt the tolerant commander.

It took Squall a moment to compose himself enough for words. Noticing that he'd again been holding his breath, he let it out in a heavy sigh. Deep breaths didn't help to relax him like before, but keeping a steady rhythm did seem to give his mind something to focus on other than the pain. He replied, "Nothing I can't handle."

Seifer felt relieved. For a moment there he had thought the brunet was going to say, 'I'm fine.' Such a response would have indicated the exact opposite. "I'm going to start moving," he announced. Pulling out a little ways, he rocked back in, pressing himself deeper. It was too fucking sweet. The tightness, the heat, the arousing display of his submissive rival, it was all driving him insane with lust.

Unintentionally, Squall bit his lip too harshly as Seifer rocked back inside of him. He bit down harder when the blond repeated the motion with more force. At the continued repetition, the pain slowly receded, not quite diminishing all together. Losing track of how long the ex-knight had been going, he was abruptly given more than discomfort and pain to occupy his mind. When the blond thrust rather harshly and deeply, a strong spike of pleasure rang through him.

Seifer began to increase his speed and force behind each needy thrust, hoping to eventually find just the right angle that would hit the commander's sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Nn-ah," Squall choked out unintelligibly, not having expected such pleasure. The more Seifer hit that one spot, the more he felt the need for the man to keep doing it. Unable to remain idle when his body wanted constant stimulation, he thrust back. His reward was a strong spike of pleasure from within and an appreciative groan from Seifer.

Neither boy could wait any longer.

"Harder," Squall ordered with slight desperation. While his own thrusts helped bring greater pleasure, he wanted more.

Seifer was all too eager to comply. Gripping slim hips tightly, he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming back in. Repeating the action, he began to lose sight of why he had been holding back in the first place.

"Ah!" Squall cried, feeling his climax at hand. Pushing back to meet the blond's hard thrusts he bit down on his lip again to keep from crying out too much.

"Call my name," Seifer requested, reaching around and grasping the commander's erection. He wanted to hear that sweet voice cry his name in ecstasy.

Very nearly climaxing at the first touch of his rival's hand, Squall was unable to suppress himself. The sound of their bodies coming together in heated slapping and the constant jolts of pleasure sent him over the edge. As Seifer stroked his weeping cock, his mind lost all coherent thought. All he could do was feel the rough hand stroking him and the pounding intrusion from behind.

Faster and harder, Seifer pushed his cock as deep as possible. It was terribly hot inside the commander's body and unbelievably tight. He had never experienced anything so fucking good. Leaning over, he groaned at the changed angle. Squall seemed too lost to have complied with his request. "My name," he reminded, stilling his strokes of the brunet's leaking cock and gripping it as he felt the first shudder or orgasm.

Squall had felt the beginning of his pending orgasm, but it was delayed by the ex-knight's harshly gripping hand. "Seifer," he half yelled, half pleaded. It was cruel to keep him from the sweet completion.

Biting down on the shoulder he had been kissing lightly, Seifer listened as Squall hissed painfully at the marking. "Louder," he urged, wanting to hear the boy's voice clearly.

"Bastard," Squall growled back. With the insistent bite Seifer had given him, his mind had cleared a little.

Still holding onto the brunet's aching member, Seifer leaned back to gain more leverage. Without restraint, he slammed mercilessly into that lithe body, over and over.

Whatever brief streams of logical thought Squall had managed to regain were lost. He was certain that he would come if the bastard knight would just let him, but the blond wasn't letting him. Vaguely, he knew what he would have to do. Not being in a position to regard his pride with very much importance, he conceded. "Seifer!" he cried out.

Seifer groaned at the lovely sound of his lion calling out his name. He had never felt so prone to control as when he was with the stubborn commander. There was something about how defiant the brunet was against all restraints that challenged him. Not being cruel, he released the boy's throbbing length and began to stroke it again.

Squall finally received his sweet release. "Ah-Seif-un!" he gasped out unintelligibly. His orgasm shuddered through him in waves. The blond continued to fist him, drawing out each wave of jerking release. Arching his back, he forgot everything beyond the ecstasy he experienced.

Ridiculously excited by the sound of his own name spilling forth from the commander's luscious mouth, Seifer felt his end near. As the lithe beauty trembled with release, the tight walls surrounding his cock squeezed even tighter. The sensation was mind blowing, rushing him to orgasm. Groaning, he spurted hot cum inside his rival's body.

Gasping for air, Squall collapsed against the bed. The firm weight of the older boy soon fell atop him, and he could do nothing but lie perfectly still and absorb the euphoric sensations coursing through his body. He had just had sex for the first time and he wasn't quite certain he had made it out intact.

Feeling spent, Seifer pulled out. A small shiver ran through him as he observed the brunet's puckered entrance leaking cum. Not caring about cleaning up, he removed his weight from the smaller man and tugged the blankets of the bed back.

Squall shifted enough to rest beneath the covers.

Pulling the brunet to him, holding the tired kitten close, Seifer whispered, "You've ruined me."

"Mmh?" Squall managed to mumble in question, not entirely recovered.

"After that, I don't think I can ever be with anyone else," Seifer admitted, having never experienced any orgasm or feeling total bliss like that. He could tell Squall was already half asleep. The brunet had pretty grey-blue eyes shut and held a rather peaceful expression. Nuzzling the boy's slender neck again, he breathed deeply.

Not relinquishing his hold, Seifer drifted off with the commander in his arms securely. His day had turned out better than expected. He had definitely made the right choice in returning to Balamb Garden.

TBC…


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Prisoners of Lust

"Lee me 'lone," mumbled a sleeping Seifer.

Groaning in annoyance, Squall squirmed within the blond's embrace. "Let go," he hissed.

Muscular arms squeezed the commander's lithe body tighter. "Go 'way," Seifer replied, burying his head between the pillow and the crook of a slim neck.

Squall rolled his eyes. "I would, but you're holding on to me," he half shouted.

For the past five minutes, Squall had been attempting to get up. Seifer was proving to be an intolerable hindrance in his attempts. The knight slept soundly while holding him captive, and regardless of the warmth and comfort of the position, he still wanted to move.

Cracking an eye open, Seifer looked at the mussed chocolate hair and smiled contently. The moment he had first felt the commander stir, he had made certain to hold on firmly. "Can you blame me?" he asked with nip to the back of the brunet's neck.

"You're awake," Squall accused.

"Of course, love," Seifer replied roguishly.

Gazing narrowly at the wall, Squall shifted again, intent on getting out of the bed.

Not wanting to anger the brunet, Seifer loosened his hold. The commander didn't respond kindly to force, at least for the most part. His mind recalled how responsive the hidden sex demon inside the boy had been to his domineering ways only hours ago. Lewd images flooded his mind. He might consider it a fair exchange to lose an arm in order to hold onto his rival for a few more minutes.

Sitting up on propping arms, Squall felt an odd soreness in his lower back that wasn't the same as the stiffness in the rest of his muscles. It was a few thoughtful moments before he realized the raw sensation was the result of the ex-knight's penetration. Abashed, he valiantly hid his emotions. There was little point in becoming embarrassed after the fact.

Glancing to the tanned man beside him, Squall met watchful green eyes. Somehow, the blond almost looked hurt that he wanted to leave. Sighing, he leaned over, holding the blond's gaze as he drew closer. Before he could close the distance completely, a tender hand came up to his face. The knight stroked his cheek and traced a thumb across the corner of his mouth. At the prick of pain in his lip, he remembered biting it too harshly earlier. Smiling slightly, he said, "I think our spars are less rough."

Drawing an index finger along a pale cheek, Seifer regarded the brunet apologetically. He knew he had been a bit too rough, especially considering the enticingly innocent boy had been a virgin. "I'm sorry."

Furrowing his brows, Squall pulled away from the blond's touch. Shaking his head in disapproval, he said, "That's too bad. I thought I'd had sex with Seifer Almasy, not some second guessing push over." Feigning disappointment, he sighed.

"Push over?" Seifer questioned incredulously.

"Hmm," Squall sounded in affirmation, accompanied with a small nod.

Mumbling under his breath, Seifer pounced up from his reclining position. Hovering over the smaller man, he glared. "Push over?" he questioned once more in a near growl.

Squall almost laughed at the way those jade eyes seemed to dance. As Seifer drew close, trying to be menacing, he smirked.

Seifer cocked an eyebrow at the smirk the commander gave.

Swiftly, Squall pushed up and reversed their position. His actions spoke clearly. The imperturbable expression on the handsome knight's face was betrayed by the dancing fire in green eyes. He couldn't help but find the blond's defensive nature amusing. He laughed, letting the ego-abused man know that he was simply having a small amount of fun. It was rare that he could be the one goading the blond into an argument. Then again, he usually didn't try to pick fights.

Glaring sardonically, Seifer looked slightly less amused than his unusually playful counter part. As soft lips pressed against his own, his anger quickly dissipated. Sadly, before he could twine his fingers in silky hair and deepen the kiss beyond the chaste touch that it was, the commander pulled away and moved to get out of bed.

With a final kiss, Squall decided to let Seifer mull over whatever qualms he might have over their pleasurable escapades.

Simply standing held a painful surprise for Squall when his legs nearly gave out. Reluctantly, he glanced back at the blond. Not wanting to see sympathy or apology in green eyes, he was relieved and mildly annoyed at what he found. The ex-knight reclined leisurely with hands behind his head and a bare chest on display. With an arrogant grin in place, sparkling eyes were highly amused.

Flashing a broad smile and showing off his pearly whites, Seifer questioned rhetorically, "I'm that good, huh?"

Scowling, Squall shot daggers at the ex-knight. The proud man continued to smile, his usual cocky manner restored. After a moment, he broke down and gave a faint smile. He much preferred the cocky asshole to the diffident man he had seen briefly a moment ago. He supposed sex tended to move people in odd ways, striking deeply rooted chords that were rarely plucked.

Straightening, Squall hid the grimace that threatened to surface with the effort such a simply act took. He tried to keep his steps as normal as possible, though he wasn't sure what that was since he didn't usually walk around with such acute pain in his ass. Moving about the room rather slowly, he gathered a fresh set of clothes, not the least bit hesitant to be nude while doing so. SeeD members hardly had the luxury of modesty, especially on missions in close quarters for extended amounts of time. Secretly, he rather enjoyed the sudden gleam Seifer's eye showed while watching him.

With his clothes, Squall left the room and headed for the bathroom. A hot shower would be quite welcome. He didn't feel dirty exactly and certainly not disgusted by what he had realized was dry semen on his inner thighs, but it was uncomfortable and he couldn't very well arrive at his office in such a state.

Once the commander was out of sight, Seifer slouched and hit his head against the pillow a few times. Groaning, he sighed exasperatingly, "Cock tease."

Casting the sheets aside, Seifer regarded his hardening member with a bothersome glare. His lovely little princess was more than a tease when walking around with that firmly sculpted body entirely on display. He had witnessed the marks he had left the night before, which stood proudly as testimony that Squall was now his.

"Hyne," he mumbled, wondering just how he would manage to juggle his duties as a bodyguard when he doubted his ability to keep his hands off his charge. Worse yet, he seriously suspected that he was falling in love. He cared far more than usual and his heart beat madly every time bright grey-blue eyes looked at him. It was disconcerting that he had only been back a couple days and falling prey to wiles his rival didn't even know how to use. Had he gone soft?

--

Hot water shot out of the showerhead in a fast torrent. First feeling with his hand to test the temperature, Squall noted with relief that his fingers were back to normal. No longer dulled to hot or cold, he felt the soothing heat for what it was.

Stepping beneath the spray, he let the water wash over him. Warmth spread through his body. With a deep sigh, he let the torrent massage and sooth his body. His sopping hair hung down his neck, while near black strands shielded his eyes. He raked a hand through the darkened mop to see clearly.

Once he had washed himself thoroughly, inside and out, he felt inclined to linger a few extra moments and let the water spray on his lower back.

At length, he turned the faucet off, his thoughts straying to the eventful night he had experienced. The idea of sex was no longer set in textbook terms for him. He had learned first hand why a man would choose to be fucked. Though he had his doubts in the beginning when Seifer's invasion had been nothing but painful, he had experienced the ecstasy such penetration could bring. Once again, Seifer had shown him pleasure beyond his expectations.

Desire stirring, Squall shook his head to dispel lewd thoughts from his mind. Irvine was the one obsessed with sex, not him. Though, he couldn't deny that he was hopeful of repeating the act again. He had never really believed sex could be as enjoyable as the glorified stories, but it actually was.

Focusing on the day ahead, Squall walked back into the bedroom while ruffling his hair with a towel. The ex-knight had gone so far as to dress in a pair of boxers while gathering the sheets and bedding together to be laundered. They had made a bit of a mess.

As Seifer walked past the commander to shove the sheets down the shoot in the bathroom, he ruffled the boy's damp mop of hair and said sternly, "Don't leave without me." He could tell by the trademark black leather pants and white shirt, that Squall was ready to work straight through the next forty-eight hours. Not waiting for a response, since he wasn't likely to get one, he left the room.

Although Squall felt compelled to go to his office, he was inexplicably bound to wait for the blond. It was annoying. He contented himself with finishing the progress reports he had yet to log.

Squall sorely discovered that he couldn't work at either the desk in his room or small kitchen nook. He was resigned to sitting on the couch where he could gently rest against the cushions. With a bottle of water as breakfast and his laptop, he logged all the numbers into the system.

It was imperative to maintain a balance in the cadets learning, and the logs were basically progress reports that would let him know who was lacking in what areas. It would also help him decide whom to approve for specialty training, which was always a difficult decision. His own decision to become a gunblade specialist had almost been disapproved, which was something he tried to take into consideration when facing cadets who were not suited for a certain weapon. There was limitless potential in everyone, and his job as headmaster was to cultivate it. Currently, he was working to alter the curriculum and give a broader range of basic skills to everyone. A SeeD who could use a pole arm to defeat an entire squadron was useless if that same SeeD couldn't fire a gun accurately or use magic.

Finishing his task quickly, Squall scolded himself for not doing it sooner. He had barely done anything since Seifer's return.

The door to the bathroom opened abruptly and ended Squall's internal monologue on responsibility. Stalking out in naught but dark blue jeans and a towel over his shoulders, the ex-knight didn't even spare him a glance before moving to the other room.

As Seifer walked into his own room to grab a shirt and his gunblade, he called back, "There's something you should know." He was already grimacing at the unsavory reaction the brunet would have at learning that he had kept Fenrir's death a temporary secret.

Immediately suspicious, Squall stared intently after the ex-knight's form. "What?" he asked solemnly.

"Can you at least agree not to kill me?" Seifer called out. Searching through a large unpacked duffel bag, he selected a random shirt.

"Seifer," Squall replied in a dangerous tone. He suspected it had something to do with why the blond was on the phone with Quistis earlier. He should have questioned the matter before.

With his hands through two sleeves, Seifer paused a moment. He tried to decipher any undertones in the commander's voice. The brunet had a million different ways of saying a single word, which was exactly why the quiet man hardly needed to string more than two words together to convey a point. "Can I get your word on my life first?" he asked, slightly in jest. He shrugged the rest of the way into the shirt and waited.

Squall sat poised on the couch, his legs drawn up with his laptop in his lap. Tilting his head slightly, damp strands of hair shifted across his cheek and inadvertently send a cold chill down his neck. He thought for a few moments, trying to gauge the situation without being told anything. He was upset that his entire world had turned upside down and when he should have been wrought with anxiety, he was only mildly unsettled. Seifer was a bad influence because the man was such a strong influence.

"Squall?" Seifer asked tentatively, walking to the doorway and glancing at the brunet when he received no answer. The pale ice prince sat comfortably while in silent thought. He knew that look very well. Head angled to the side and lips pouted, while that sharp brain worked swiftly to piece some puzzle together.

"The missile was from Esthar, right?" Covering all his bases, Squall decided that he'd confirm what he thought he already knew.

Green eyes gazed piercingly across the room. What was his little lion up to now? "Yes," he responded, wary of the boy's reaction to the news.

Squall had no intention of killing the man he had recently slept with, but might consider breaking a few fingers depending on what the ex-knight was trying to tell him. "Dollet was unharmed, unless there were ships that left harbor early. Did President Loire call?" he questioned, still trying to reason things out on his own.

Seifer grinned when he realized what the perceptive boy was trying to do. It wouldn't work. The last thing Squall would guess would be that Fenrir was dead.

"Is this something I need to know before I deal with what happened in Dollet?" It felt odd to refer to all his troubles as though they existed elsewhere. Squall realized his reason for feeling at ease was that his troubles seemed to exist outside of his dormitory, as though there were two separate worlds and the conflicts didn't carry over. When had the small apartment become some safe haven?

Giving up, Seifer rubbed the back of his neck and told the commander the news. "Governor Fenrir was assassinated early this morning. About an hour after the missile hit."

Not reacting immediately, Squall stared. When the news settled in, stormy blue eyes widened. Not even wasting his time on cursing, he scrambled from the couch. Having just enough sense to lift his laptop up instead of letting it fall, he set it down so quickly that the papers on the coffee table scattered messily. "My blade?" he inquired, on his way to the door.

"My room," Seifer answered, moving from sight to retrieve the item.

Hastily, Squall pulled his boots on and laced them up. Swinging his jacket around, he slipped into it and habitually jerked on the front of it to set it into proper place. Even though he had no clue what all it meant, he felt a sinking feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. The last time he had felt such trepidation had been when they'd learned that a more powerful sorceress had been controlling Edea. Taking Lionheart from Seifer's hands, he secured it at his hip with deft ease.

"So, I'm off the hook?" Seifer asked, regretting his words instantly. The worried commander seemed to have completely forgotten his intentional indiscretion. Why in Hyne's name had he reminded the temperamental boy? Perhaps he was curious how far he could push his charge before reaching a limit. Withholding such important information was definitely pushing the boundaries on their tentative relationship, especially since he had used the time in between to take the angry kitten's virginity.

Teeth clenching, Squall glared at the blond. Intentions not quite clear, he sauntered closer. Thinking for a quick moment, he wondered how he should punish his overbearing bodyguard. While he was livid, he had instinctively decided to save punishment until later. Feeling confident within the confines of his apartment, where the rules were apparently different and he could do or say whatever he pleased without inhibition, he settled on a rather unconventional means of punishment.

Seifer watched as enraged kitten stepped closer. The smile that played across those soft lips was far from reassuring.

"I'll forget it, if you can keep your hands to yourself," Squall said, a challenging undertone lacing his softly spoken words.

Before Seifer could question what the younger man meant, he was stunned into absolute silence. Standing on his tiptoes, the smaller man pressed him back and kissed him in an achingly sensual manner. Delicate fingers ran through his still damp hair, sending shivers along his spine.

Pressing closer, Squall rubbed his hip against the ex-knight's crotch. The intent was to arouse Seifer with as little consequence to himself. He continued to kiss the blond while deviously rubbing the man's groin. It was most unlike him, but in his upside down world where lust and desire suddenly existed, it was the perfect punishment.

Not able to keep from compromising himself, Squall began to lose sight of his objective. Breaking away, he ended the kiss before it was too late. Raking his fingers across the soft material of the older boy's grey shirt, he repeatedly grazed hardening nipples. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the movement of the blond's arms. To his dismay, the man stopped before touching him.

Kissing Seifer again, Squall continued to push the blond closer to the breaking point. Trailing from the taller man's lips, he clutched at the cotton shirt and used it as leverage to reach higher. Lips moving along a stubble free jaw line, he made his way to a soft earlobe. Nipping at it, he ground his hips against the ex-knight's bulging arousal. Licking the shell of the man's ear, he stilled briefly when he saw needy arms move again. Sensing the aroused man was about to crack, he whispered heatedly into the man's ear, "I want you inside of me again."

Seifer's breath hitched while his mind continued to shout every curse he knew, some in different languages. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he swiftly wrapped his arms around the lithe man pressing against his body. Promptly setting claim on plush lips, he plundered the boy's sweet mouth as he lost to lust.

Dangerously close to losing himself, Squall broke away and squirmed out of the embrace. Panting slightly, he shook his head to clear it. "Then it's settled, you'll pay later." Needing distance from the object of his desires, he stalked out the door.

It took Seifer a long moment to figure out what had happened. He became angry. If he weren't so hopeful about fucking the brunet later on and living to grin about it, he would have run after the taunting boy and screwed that pert ass against the nearest wall.

Left alone, Seifer banged his head back against the wall while muttering curses under his breath. He would have to trail after the commander after taking care of his raging hard on. "That was harsh," he mumbled to an imaginary sympathetic ear. Retreating farther into the apartment, he stormed to the bathroom to relieve himself.

Seifer had underestimated the puberty boy. The sexy commander was a frighteningly fast learner, capable of using seductive wiles without much practice. Then again, the brunet's fumbling attempts hadn't really been very well executed. He feared the problem wasn't Squall learning the art of seduction, but his feelings regarding the boy making him weak against even the briefest of touches.

TBC…


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

The Hunt Begins

Squall wasted no time. His first course of action was to enlist the help of his closest friends. While there were many capable and able bodies within Balamb Garden, he had yet to personally assess their skills or grow to trust them.

Within the familiar conference room with the long glossy table and comfortable leather chairs, Squall waited. The blond knight was seated to his right, glaring at him with a certain gleam in jade eyes that suggested curses were also being sent his way. He couldn't help but smile subtly at the affect he'd had on the older boy. Usually the victim of the bullying boy's words and actions, it was a rare instance to find the boisterous knight refusing to speak as a means of pouting.

Briefly wondering if he had gone too far, Squall concluded Seifer's transgression had deserved far more than an unattended hard on. Musing for a moment, he recalled the confused expression on the ex-knight's face. Raising a hand, he hid his involuntary smirk.

Seifer shot daggers at the amused princess.

Rolling his eyes, Squall decided to make peace before his perceptive friends noticed anything. There was little doubt that suspicions would arise if he or Seifer behaved strangely. Irvine already suspected him of the worst and was entirely on the mark. Screwing his rival was a troublesome enough turn of events, and he didn't look forward to making matters more complicated by informing his friends.

Regarding the roguish knight's structured profile, Squall was about to speak when the door opened.

Quistis rushed in, looking rather concerned.

"What is it?" Squall asked, praying there hadn't been anymore new developments, such as the rise of another sorceress or a declaration of war by Dollet.

Quistis walked briskly across the room towards the rivaling pair. The restrictive skirt she wore hampered her long strides, but she managed with practiced ease as each step brought her closer.

Standing to meet his second in command, Squall didn't know what to expect. His heart raced and his stomach tied in knots as he prepared for the worst. What if Esthar had sent the missile on purpose? Dollet would declare war, tying the attack and the assassination together, and he would be bound by treaty to support Esthar.

With the ruffling of a long black trench coat, Seifer stood tall and imposing behind the commander. Hardly treating the head instructor as a threat, he stood at the ready nonetheless.

Glasses set atop her head, the legs disappearing into strawberry blonde hair, Quistis' weary crystal blue eyes gazed in scrutiny. Not her usual radiant self, she looked far older than nineteen. Exhausted from her short time acting in the commander's stead, she felt dead on her feet. Her demanding schedule had not even allowed her to visit Squall in the infirmary. Able to assess the resilient boy's health for the first time, she searched grey-blue eyes for some indication of pain. As difficult to read as ever, she managed to conclude that while Squall was a bit paler than usual and still seemed rather sleep deprived, there was a soft glow of returning health.

Relieved, Quistis reached out and warmly cupped her commander's cheek. "I was worried about you," she informed. "Dr. Kadowaki wouldn't tell me a thing."

Sighing in exasperation, Squall felt the knots in his stomach unwind a bit. Short of reprimanding his trusted friend, knowing Quistis hadn't meant to worry him, he gave a small and fleeting smile. "Patient confidentiality," he said softly.

Huffing, Quistis commented, "I know, I know." Moving her hand to feel the boy's forehead, she took an assessing temperature. "You feel a bit warm. Are you feeling alright?"

Before Squall could answer, he found himself pulled backwards abruptly. Colliding with a soft thud against a hard chest, his feet were the last part of him to move. The tall knight, who was supposedly giving him the silent treatment, now held him tightly with an arm angled over his torso.

"He's fine," Seifer bit out tersely.

For a moment, Quistis simply stared in surprise. An intuitive feeling told her that the hired bodyguard was being more possessive than protective, which was simply preposterous. Unable to shake the notion, certain that green eyes were warring her away, she simply shrugged and dismissed it.

Wrenching free of the tight one-armed grip, Squall was a little riled to discover the difficulty he had in doing so. If prying free of a single arm were so hard, then each previous time he had struggled free of the man had not been a result of his own power. He was disconcerted to realize he had been underestimating his rival's strength. Unable to openly rebuke the ex-knight without seeming suspiciously sensitive, he sat down.

Feeling curious gazes upon him, Squall pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to ignore it. Waving a hand, he dissuaded any further discussion on matters unrelated to Dollet.

As Quistis sat down, the door opened once again.

"Squall!" Selphie cried, skipping forward to the back of the leather chair in which her leader sat. Reaching over the cushioned seat, she wrapped her arms around the pale man. Seeing the fighter conscious for the first time since the previous day, she clung gingerly. "You feel a bit warm," she commented while letting go and walking around the table.

"So he's been told," Seifer said.

"Better too warm than a block of ice," Selphie chirped merrily.

Reluctant to discuss business when only a fraction of the expected attendees were present, Squall decided he would rather reiterate himself later than talk about the long night and even longer morning he had gone through. "What are the details on Fenrir's death?" he questioned with an authoritative undertone that implied everyone was on the clock.

Quistis studied the commander before answering, "Two gunshot wounds to the head and chest. Irvine reviewed the photos for me. He estimates the distance to be within fifteen feet, but said he needed some time to review the rest of the photos." Whether or not they came to any sound conclusions, Dollet would have its own investigation and they would be hearing from the ballistics department for confirmation.

Nodding in acceptance, Squall was fine with waiting for the gunman to arrive. "Any suspects?"

Quistis' expression grew somber. "There haven't been any statements given to the public, but the news is already speculating the involvement of Esthar."

"As well they should," Squall concluded. It would be foolish not to suspect some connection with the dead governor and the country that launched a missile within hours of the assassination.

"But Laguna didn't do anything," Selphie defended.

"I'm not blaming him for anything. I have my doubts, but I don't think the missile was sent with the president's knowledge," Squall assured the flustered girl.

Settling back in her seat, Selphie smiled. "That's what Laguna said."

Grey-blue eyes looked at the copper haired pilot expectantly. When the petit young woman made no further comments, he shifted in slight annoyance before asking, "What else did President Loire say?"

"Oh," Selphie intoned, jostling in her seat. "Dr. Odine was the only one on call at the missile base. They found him, along with all the guards knocked out. The doctor had the access key on him, so whoever launched the missile used that."

"Has a formal statement been issued?" Squall asked. The faster they made it clear that Esthar was not attacking anyone, the greater the chance of everything being resolved smoothly.

"No," answered a voice near the doorway. Zell strode in with an unusually solemn look on his face. "We each tried to reason with Laguna, but he insisted that coming here and checking up on you was more important."

Squall prayed to Shiva for strength. How had Laguna managed to run a country for nearly eighteen years without driving it into the ground? He suspected Laguna was unaware of the impact the public eye could have, which the man would soon find out now that Esthar was no longer some invisible secret. Taking a steadying breath, he instructed Quistis, "Get on the phone with him right now. The last place we need him is in Balamb." What message would it send if Balamb Garden played host to Esthar's leader?

"We tried to stop him," Quistis replied, unsure whether she could convince the determined ex-soldier from arriving.

Sighing, Squall turned to Selphie. "Get me a direct link from here."

Seifer leaned back in his chair, observing the commander. He had never witnessed the boy in action, giving orders so naturally and using that sharp mind to think quickly. It was obvious why many called Leonhart a prodigy leader. After several moments of impressed observation, he realized he was still supposed to be angry with the sexy minx who had turned him on and then turned him away. Revenge was in order.

Squall kept his focus on Quistis. "Were there any witnesses? Who found the body?"

"No witnesses," Quistis informed. "The security guards were found dead and the cameras disabled. It was obviously a professional hitman. A janitor found the guards and the police found Fenrir after being called in."

"Or hit_men_," Selphie suggested, leaning nearly flat along the table's surface as she tinkered with a cord of banded wires coming directly out of the tabletop. "How many guards can a single person take out on their own?"

"Seven, not including our dearly departed," drawled a smooth voice near the door. Irvine walked in holding a manila folder in one hand while tipping his hat in salute with the other. Taking a seat next to the blond boxer, he seemed entirely at ease. Setting the folder in the center of the table he slid it towards the commander. "The murder weapon was a semi automatic handgun, but I can't tell what make or model without a bullet. The shot to the chest was a direct hit to the heart, roughly ten feet away. The shot to the head was point blank. I'd say it would have been perfect aim even if you multiplied the distance by a hundred. I can only speculate, but it feels like there was no hesitancy. This was quite cold blooded." In a fair fight he'd shoot down any enemy, but not some old man who had no defense. He wasn't a sharpshooter on a regular basis, just when evil sorceresses needed killing.

"The guards were all killed in the same manner," Quistis informed before Squall could open the folder.

Tapping the top of the folder with the tips of his fingers, Squall thought for a moment. "Reaper's Angel," he finally said, almost to himself. Looking up through uncombed and choppy chocolate colored bangs, he scanned the three SeeDs seated across from him. Neither Zell or Selphie seemed affected by his conclusion, but Irvine stared pointedly at him. Violet eyes searched his for a moment before the gunman sat back and gave a subtle nod.

There was a knock on the conference room door. Several heads swiveled toward the source of the disturbance, and then to Squall. The group wondered who else had been summoned.

"Come in," Squall called out.

Raijin's large frame filled the doorway. Blocked from view until able to step out from behind the quarterstaff user's shadow, Fujin and Rui followed closely.

Before Squall could explain why he had included three supposed outsiders, the happy pilot finished setting up the link.

"All set!" Selphie exclaimed.

Squall reached across and took the handheld transmitter from the technologically savvy girl. "Go ahead and send a signal."

"Already did," Selphie chirped before leaving her seat to greet Rui.

While waiting for a response on his father's end, Squall watched with secretive amusement as Selphie swung Rui around in a tight embrace. The desperate look on the raven-haired boy's face was quite funny, even to him. Refocusing his attention, the image of a dark skinned man with braided hair filled the small screen of the transmitter. "Ambassador Seagill," he greeted.

With features almost as delicate as the effeminate commander, Kiros tucked a few thin braids behind his ear before setting the portable communicator on a stand. "Commander Leonhart," he greeted in return, offering a curt nod.

"Squall?" an alarmed voice sounded in the background.

Squall watched as the video feed scrambled a bit and the view shifted. It would seem the communicator had fallen.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Squall watched as a clumsy Laguna grappled for the device and appeared to be falling forward after leaping over the front seat of some transporter ship that he couldn't recognize.

"Squall? Squall?" Laguna called, hand hitting the communicator. "Kiros," the president whined, "I think I broke it."

"Laguna," the dark skinned man reprimanded, grabbing the device, "Next time don't jump into the front seat and grab it." After a moment Kiros passed the transmitter back, but not before grumbling to the commander, "Next time just call on a phone, that's about all your dad can handle."

"Are you okay?" The concerned face of Laguna came into view again. Squall opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by the flustered president. "You look pale. Why aren't you resting? I'll be there in half an hour."

Biting his lip to keep silent, Squall fought the urge to lecture the Estharian President. "No," he managed to interject before the man requested his temperature be taken. Tone harsher than he intended, he added, "You can't come here."

"Listen to your son," Kiros sounded from somewhere out of view.

Laguna turned his head to regard his friend, acting as though the commander couldn't hear every word spoken. "He's hurt. Of course I'm going to see him."

"Laguna," Squall growled, his patience waning. "You can't come here."

Soft hazel green eyes regarded the commander pleadingly. "Why not?" he questioned quietly, eyes glossing as though seconds from welling with tears.

Flexing his fist, Squall scrunched his brows and prayed for the patience to deal with his overeager father. It wasn't that the president was particularly trying on his patience, but that he was not in the best of moods to be dealing with such a personal conflict. "Do you know that Governor Fenrir was assassinated?"

"Yes," Laguna said dismissively. "Do you know that you should be in bed?" he returned. Shifting about, he lost his precarious balance between front and back seats and fell forward with a grunt.

Seifer leaned over to watch the small monitor. Blinking at the clumsy spectacle, he leaned closer to the brunet and whispered, "You share his genes."

Glaring dangerously out of the corner of his eye, Squall squeezed his fist even tighter.

Seifer grinned, relishing the sadistically satisfying feeling of angering the reticent ice prince. Bullying even the smallest reactions out of the boy would never grow old. Tilting his head a bit, barely escaping the view of the small crowd around them, he nipped at the seething kitten's ear. "Just think how our kids are gonna turn out," he joked with quick lick.

"Seifer," Squall hissed, only a moment away from tackling the blond and taking their little jibe session to the next level. Nearly jumping at the feel of a heated tongue, his willpower was tested. Retaliation would only draw unwanted attention.

Leaning back, Seifer chuckled and let the brunet deal with Daddy-dearest. Briefly, he wondered how Squall would react if he addressed President Loire as 'Dad'. The commander would surely kill him. Smirking, he decided it would be quite amusing to try in the near future.

"Kiros," Squall called. "We both know why he shouldn't come here, so please stop him. I don't want to ban you two from entering."

"I've tried, but he's stubborn." The president's advisor and long time friend swam back into view as Laguna handed the transmitter over with great reluctance. "He won't stop short of seeing you in person."

"Then go to Dollet. I'll meet you there," Squall instructed. Gritting his teeth, he used an underhanded tactic on the affection-starved father. "Is that alright with you, Dad?" The intimate term was like sandpaper on his tongue and the moment he said it, he regretted it. With an awkward moment of silence on the other end and within the conference room, he vowed never to use the word again.

Kiros' dark eyes stared at the commander for a moment before another face pushed its way over. Green eyes stared with glistening adoration. "Okay!" Laguna agreed happily.

Short of completely overstepping his authority, Squall further instructed, "No formal entrance. If you can, don't let anyone know who you are. Go to a bar called The Harold." Unable to handle a teary goodbye, he disconnected the link.

Silence settled in the room as seven pairs of eyes stared at the commander.

Clearing his throat self-consciously, Squall was reluctant to say anything pertaining to his father.

"AWKWARD," Fujin said from several seats down.

Scoffing, Seifer crossed his arms and brooded again. "Way to give the puppy hope. Now he'll be planning a three month vacation with just the two of you shacked up in Winhill for some father-son bonding."

Ignoring the obvious personal matter, Squall kept his focus entirely professional. "Quistis, I'll ask you to continue taking care of everything here."

Nodding solemnly, Quistis agreed. She wasn't looking forward to the heavy workload, but if Squall could do it for over six months, then she could manage a few more days at the least.

"Zell, Fujin, Raijin," Squall directed, regarding the three attentive persons on the other side of the table. "Help Quistis out here. Fujin, if you could keep public access under control. Zell and Raijin, I know you have classes to teach today, so I won't ask you to leave now, but I would like you two to get out to Esthar as soon as you can and check out the missile base for yourselves."

Jumping from his seat, Zell boxed the air. "No problem, just leave it to us!"

"AFFIRMATIVE," Fujin complied, earning a disapproving glare from the blond knight.

Raijin grinned confidently, first to Fujin and then to the pretty-boy commander. "Don't worry about a thing. We got it covered, ya know?"

"Since when do you take orders from the princess?" Seifer asked, a little miffed that his best friends had more than one loyalty.

Rui, who had watched the entire display with avid interest, commented, "Since you became a pervert." His eyes quickly widened as he realized belatedly that he shouldn't have spoken. Cursing his unruly tongue and terrible habit of speaking his mind, he took refuge near the happy-go-lucky girl.

Sensing that no one grasped the unfamiliar boy's meaning, Squall was both grateful and amused. Indifferent to the comment, he simply explained, "This is Rui Valdez. He's a new cadet and will accompany us to Dollet."

"No," Seifer rejected firmly, sharp green eyes still causing the small preteen to cower near the messenger girl.

"That is all," Squall said dismissively. "Thank you all," he added, expression softening with obvious appreciation.

Giving salute, Raijin, Fujin, and Zell promptly left to carry out their orders.

"The thief is not coming," Seifer reaffirmed, his fist hitting the tabletop.

"I'm coming," Rui countered, elated at the idea of tagging along.

"Selphie, please ready Ragnarok," Squall instructed, seeming to ignore the ex-knight's objections.

Standing, Selphie gave a rather animated salute. "Aye, aye cap'n!" she cheered, excited to take her ship out for some fun.

Emotionally drained, Squall was not looking forward to his meeting with Laguna. Sighing, he glanced to the sharp shooting cowboy. "Irvine, I'd like you to come to Dollet as well. We'll leave in ten minutes. When you're ready, meet in the hanger."

"I'm ready now, darlin'," Irvine drawled, gazing suspiciously at the knight beside his leader.

Nodding, Squall requested, "Would you board ahead of me and make sure the ammunitions' lock is still active on Ragnarok. I don't need Selphie blowing anything up." Rubbing tired eyes, he suppressed a yawn.

"You got it," Irvine agreed. With a wink and relaxed salute, he departed.

Suddenly feeling very defenseless, Rui stared at the glaring knight. While he could hope Commander Leonhart would protect him, moving closer to the commander would consequently bring him closer to the pernicious blond. "I think I'll follow the guy with the hat," he said shakily, bolting for the door.

Left alone with his former rival, Squall felt the atmosphere tense. He could feel the intense gaze of disapproving jade-green eyes and knew the older boy had quite a few verbal blows to exchange. "Don't argue with me on this," he whispered, not wanting to deal with Seifer's foul temper at that moment. "If Reaper is involved, we'll need Rui. That kid knows Dollet better than any of us, and he's likely to have a few inside connections."

"I'll tolerate the thief if you forget about the Fenrir incident," Seifer offered in compromise.

"Done," Squall murmured. His quick acceptance betrayed his lack of strength for arguing.

Seeing the slight sag in the brunet's shoulders, Seifer felt his anger whither away. Leaning over, he kissed the pale beauty. "Come here," he directed, breaking away and gesturing for the smaller man to sit in his lap. When stormy blue eyes gazed at him reluctantly, he assured, "I don't bite, Leonhart."

Standing up, Squall allowed the blond to wrap strong arms around his waist and pull him close. Straddling muscular thighs, he let the chuckling knight pull him in for another kiss.

TBC…


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Distractions

Irvine sat leisurely with his feet propped up on the back of the co-pilot seat. Hugging Exeter to his chest, he feigned a light dozing state. Beneath his down turned hat a smile played across his lips.

Selphie was at the controls pouting. The injustice of a weaponry restriction was that she did not intend to actually use the grappling arms or assortment of missiles. She only wanted the freedom of it, the knowledge that she _could _use them. Squall always had everything under some sort of security lock. She had been taking a few courses in pick locking and cracking codes. For the first time, she had finally managed to crack the lock on Ragnarok's modified Gatling gun.

"Meanie," Selphie accused over her shoulder toward the longhaired cowboy.

"I'm just doing my job," the gunman responded, his smile widening.

Moments after Selphie had released the lock, Irvine had come aboard and reset the damn thing under a completely different code, one that was randomized and would take another two months for her to crack.

Rui sat directly behind the emotionally charged pilot. Buckled in tightly, he gripped the straps for dear life. "Are you sure you can fly this thing?" he asked nervously. The picture of the small teenage girl sitting in the pilot's seat was less than confidence inspiring.

"Sure can," Selphie responded. She met Rui the other day when the commander had asked her to show a new student to a nearby dorm room. The skinny raven-haired boy was the cutest kid she had ever laid eyes on. If Rui had been a year or two younger, she would have adopted the unruly foreigner.

"Who are you again?" Irvine asked, finally focusing his attention on the boy who had followed him all the way to the hanger.

"Rui Valdez," Rui replied succinctly, his eyes darting around to memorize the emergency exits. Finally directing his focus to the man with a cowboy hat, he realized he didn't know how much was permissible to explain regarding his presence in Balamb Garden. He hadn't discussed it with Commander Leonhart. Other than the commander and the perverted knight, no one else knew who had sent him or why he remained.

"Rui just enrolled," Selphie explained blithely, forgetting for a moment that she was still upset with the gunman.

"I see," Irvine drawled with an undertone of suspicion. Tilting his head back, violet eyes surveyed the boy from beneath the low riding brim of his hat. "Is there any particular reason as to why he's coming along?"

"Of course," Selphie affirmed.

With a frown, Rui realized that despite being the topic of conversation, he was not allowed to be an active participant. Shrugging, he figured it made sense. People rarely trusted the words that came form a pickpocket and considering he lied quite frequently, he couldn't blame the cowboy for not asking him directly.

Irvine was in a rather irritated mood. The commander didn't even seem to remember his outburst earlier or care enough to issue due punishment. There was also the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that something was different about the attractive ice prince. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off the pale man throughout the meeting in the conference room. Trying to keep his racing mind distracted, he said, "Darlin', you've got to learn to elaborate."

Feeling that the gunman's words were unfair, Selphie replied, "Most of the time you guys are telling me to be quiet. Squall is the one who needs to talk more."

Chuckling at the good-natured fight, Irvine pushed his hat back to see more clearly. "I don't think there is any hope of changing our dearest mute," he reasoned.

Shrugging her shoulders, Selphie said, "He's always been pensive, though I was surprised at how withdrawn he became."

Not exactly thrilled that the subject of their conversation was exactly the person he didn't want to be thinking about, Irvine went along regardless. "You and me both," he agreed. "I never asked Quistis or Zell what happened." Dropping his feet from the seat, he became a bit more interested.

Biting her lip for a moment, Selphie looked to Rui. "There's a mini fridge below deck. It's got lots of goodies," she suggested, knowing it was not the smoothest of hints.

Rui was quite interested in hearing more about the commander, especially from the people who actually knew the man. Disappointed, he complied. Slowly unbuckling his safety belt, he asked, "You won't take off before I can buckle back in will you?"

"Not if I remember," Selphie offered with a mildly reassuring grin. Staying within the planet's atmosphere, it was unnecessary to buckle in.

Gulping, Rui looked from one SeeD to the next. Balamb Garden wasn't so different from Dollet. He still couldn't trust anybody. Rethinking his conclusion, he decided that there was at one person he could trust, but Commander Leonhart had arrived yet.

"You don't even have to be seated or strapped in. Selphie is the best pilot you'll ever meet," Irvine assured, seeing fear in the boy's big brown eyes.

Unable to properly communicate his reasons for wanting to be strapped in, he questioned, "I don't suppose it means anything that I'm afraid of flying?"

Selphie smiled. "Not one bit," she chirped.

Rui's eyes widened a bit, surprised at the girl's response. With no further argument, he stood up and began to walk away as though his death were eminent.

"Trust me, it's perfectly safe," Irvine assured again.

Nodding absently, Rui left.

Alone with the gunman, Selphie swiveled her seat around and crossed her legs. Looking at Irvine with a serious expression she asked, "What's wrong?"

Surprised at his little lady's perceptiveness, Irvine briefly tried to figure out what part of his demeanor had given away his troubled mind. "I never could put anything passed you, could I?" he drawled amicably, more than willing to pour his heart out to the copper haired woman.

Selphie waited with an expression of avid interest.

"This stays between us," Irvine began, simply exercising precaution. Straightening up, he mentally assessed his disquieting predicament. He hadn't quite admitted that he had a problem, but figured it couldn't hurt to seek an outside opinion.

"Oh," Selphie intoned with excitement. "Now I have to know." The gunman's secrets were always juicy.

"Swear that this stays between us," Irvine insisted. His words could not reach the commander's ears.

"I promise not to tell anyone," Selphie said somberly. Licking her lips, her expression brightened with excited interest. "Okay, now spill it."

"Recently…" Irvine began, trailing off when he struggled for the right words. He didn't want it to sound as ridiculous as it felt. "Recently, I've been attracted to Squall," he informed seriously. Feeling no relief at giving voice to what was on his mind, he sighed and waited for the petite woman's reaction.

Green eyes widening, Selphie stared dubiously. "You _like_ Squall?" she murmured.

Clearing his throat, Irvine ignored his discomfort. "Yeah, something like that."

"As in, you want to have sex with him?" Selphie questioned with a note of curiosity.

Jaw dropping, Irvine stared for an unguarded moment. Quickly composing himself, he tried to seem as relaxed as possible. Fighting a faint blush that threatened to grace his face, he tried not to picture what sex with Squall would be like.

Selphie pointed animatedly at the gunman. "You're blushing," she exclaimed. "Oh my goodness."

"Thanks for your sympathy, Selph," Irvine bit out defensively.

Forcibly removing all traces of a smile, Selphie settled back down. Putting on an apologetic expression, she did her best not to dance around and bask in the glow of the flirtatious man's insecurity. A romantically insecure Irvine was a rarity indeed, not to mention entirely shocking. Though her expression had sobered, she could not help one last remark. "Who would be bottom?" she inquired, falling into a fit of giggles as soon as the words left her mouth.

Before Irvine could yell at the girl for being so insensitive, his mind was suddenly filled with rather vivid images. Swallowing thickly, his active imagination raced with the phantasm of a hedonistic and submissive ice prince.

"Oh no," Selphie said in slight alarm. Looking at the deepened blush on the promiscuous man's face she realized just how serious the gunman was being. "You really want him?" she asked in all seriousness.

"I think so," Irvine muttered, eyes glancing to the cold metal floor.

Brows knit, Selphie tried to figure out why garden's resident playboy seemed so torn up over the matter. "Join the club," she commented nonchalantly.

"What?" Irvine said incredulously, head snapping to attention. "Don't tell me, you too?"

"At least once a month," Selphie informed, a silly smile proving it a joke. Shaking her head, she explained, "Not me, but just about everyone else. It's not like I haven't thought about it though. I think _everyone's _at least thought about it." When boredom struck, strange thoughts were bound to enter her head.

"What?" Irvine repeated. While relieved at the possible notion that his feelings were perfectly normal, he was also quite jealous.

Laughing, Selphie questioned, "Irvine, have you seen Squall?" She paused to emphasize her point. "When he was officially sworn in as Commander of Balamb Garden, I caught commanders Trent and Zephlar checking him out. Trent was practically tripping over her tongue and I'm pretty sure there was only one reason for Zephlar shifting in his seat so often."

"I thought he had a rash or something…." Irvine trailed off in self-thought, recalling the ceremony.

Nodding, Selphie continued, "Then there was General Caraway." She held out three fingers as if counting off.

Leaning forward, Irvine studied the pilot's pretty face for a moment. As an expert in the field of flirting and reading signs of desire, he didn't think it was possible for all this to have escaped his attention. "Caraway? Rinoa's father?"

"Quistis and I were forced to let Squall duck out early during the celebration dinner at the mansion. Rinoa kept dragging him back to talk with her father and after a few drinks Caraway was getting a little touchy-feely." Shaking her head at the memory of that night, Selphie couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Squall. The poor guy had no clue why Caraway had kept shaking his hand and throwing an arm around his shoulders.

"General Caraway came on to Squall?" Violet eyes stared disbelievingly.

"No, just copped a few feels," Selphie corrected, not entirely certain there was a difference. She giggled in remembrance. "We got our naïve buddy out of there before Rinoa or him could catch on. You weren't there. It was while you and Zell were on mission at the prison. It's not like we want to spread the story around."

Frowning, Irvine pressed, "What else has happened that I don't know about?" The idea that he was not alone in his attraction was suddenly less comforting. Who else had been ogling the commander?

"Do you really want a list?"

Looking at the cheery pilot expectantly Irvine stated the obvious, "Yes." As an after thought he added, "Why didn't I notice any of this?"

"You were probably too busy chasing tail," Selphie surmised with a wink. "Unless this little attraction of yours has been going on for a while?"

"A few days," the gunman answered openly. "Did you really like Squall?" he redirected, fascinated by the topic of conversation.

Looking from side to side, as though someone might overhear, Selphie leaned in conspiratorially. "Between you and mean," she said glancing around again. "My knees went week when I first saw him all grown up." Standing up, she walked the length of the small cabin, looking down each row of seats. Her soft shoes made a dulled clanking noise against the cold metal. Returning to her seat, she scooted to the very edge and waved Irvine closer.

Quirking a brow at the secretive girl's odd behavior, Irvine wondered whether she might just be messing with him. Humoring the situation he shifted closer.

Cupping the gunman's ear, Selphie whispered, "I saved those pictures of Squall on another disk."

Rearing back, Irvine stared incredulously. Furrowing his brows, he shook his head in disapproval. "Selphie, he'll kill you."

"That's why he can't know." Sitting back she smiled. "Besides, Zell asked me to."

Irvine very nearly fell out of his seat. "What?"

Selphie fell into a fit of laughter. Irvine must have been the straightest guy in the world to not check Squall out any sooner or to not notice the rest of the world doing so.

Frowning, Irvine asked, "Does Zell like Squall?"

"I doubt it," Selphie stated. "I think he just wants to sell the pictures. I know Nida would pay top dollar for something like that."

"Hyne," Irvine groaned. "Nida too?" Suddenly, he was beginning to feel foolish, as though his attraction were nothing more than what every giggling fan felt.

"That guy carries a torch for our little siren, just like Quistis did." Sticking the tip of her tongue out Selphie tilt her head in thought. "Is it wrong to gossip like this?"

"It ain't gossip," Irvine said abruptly. "Now tell me more about Nida and Quistis."

Bobbing her head from side to side, Selphie considered it for a moment. Shrugging, she figured that it really wasn't classified information. "Before the war, when Quistis was still Squall's instructor, she thought she was in love with him."

"And now?" the gunman prompted.

"It wasn't long before she realized she was just stumbling over remnants of old memories. She was certain there was nothing romantic about her feelings once she remembered everything again."

"I see." Irvine appeared deep in thought.

Green eyes narrowing, Selphie asked, "Is it because of Seifer?"

"No," Irvine answered without thinking. "Wait, what?"

"You said you only recently started to like Squall sexually. Is it because of Seifer?" Recalling the hickie on the commander's neck, Selphie also considered that the legendary rivals acted different around each other. Usually, rivals acted tense when together, but Squall had never seemed so relaxed as when Seifer had been nearby. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous?" the gunman spat incredulously. "That asshole is harassing the commander. The only thing I feel is concern. There is nothing good about that traitor staying in the same place as Squall."

"Traitor?" Selphie questioned wryly. "That's funny, because before Seifer started proving to us that he could get away with almost anything, you didn't seem to care that he'd come back. Honestly, it was probably the only way any of us could have made Squall wear a uniform. I thought it was rather inspired."

"It was more than just a hickie," Irvine half shouted, standing up suddenly. "Yesterday, I heard them. I know those sounds very well, not to mention the marks all over his body." Pacing he squeezed Exeter's tightly. "That cocky bastard had his mouth all over Squall," he added with a growl.

Blinking a few times, Selphie absorbed Irvine's words. It was her turn to be flabbergasted. "What?"

The sound of the ramp rising to a close startled both of them. Falling silent, they waited like two deer caught in headlights. When the resounding steps of military boots became louder they both hastily scrambled back to their seats with blank expressions. Before the door could open, they shared one last glance. A tacit agreement to continue the conversation later was formed.

--

A meticulous strategist by nature, Squall was always levelheaded and prudent in his actions. He had been trained to think clearly in even the most stressful and chaotic situations. Sadly, none of his training stood up against what Seifer was doing to him. He couldn't form a single coherent thought. He was reeling from the feel of the ex-knight's lips against his and the sensation of rough hands squeezing his hips. Never mind the unlocked door or the unbidden moans that came forth, as long as Seifer kept touching him then it was fine.

Hot and wet, former rivals battled using their tongues. They tasted each other fervently, the passion continuing to well inside them, driving them to deepen the exchange.

Squall never knew a kiss could feel so good. Fingers twined in silky blond hair, longer than before the war, he anchored himself in place.

By the time they finally broke apart, Squall was panting heavily and unable to open his eyes. The ex-knight seemed rather immune to the effects of oxygen deprivation and chose to lick and suckle the skin of his neck. Gruff hands moved from his hips, spreading heat. Pulling his lower body closer, one hand firmly pressed against the small of his back and the other hand slipped beneath the loose waist of his pants. While the blond nipped at his collarbone, the hand in his pants kneaded his ass, causing him to moan softly. The sensation was pleasing, reminiscent of when Seifer had first touched him so intimately. Instinctively, he arched back into the touch.

Stilling, Seifer paused in his marking of a pale neck. Quickly resuming his ministrations, he slid his hand lower against the cleft of the commander's buttocks and teasingly trailed a finger over what was likely a very sore entrance.

Squall felt restless. His body ached to be filled again, but he knew it was too soon. Frustrated, he sought relief. Grinding his pelvis against the ex-knight's, he was contented when the man broke away and groaned. Eyes fixed on the exposed flesh of the blond's neck, he dipped low and trailed his lips across tanned skin. He nipped and licked higher under a smooth jaw line, making his way to the man's ear. Lingering long enough to toy with a soft lobe and cause his rival to shiver, he moved lower again until his lips found a beating pulse. Sucking lightly, he decided to leave his own mark. A deep groan encouraged him.

Seifer was in heaven. He would have let Leonhart do anything to him at that point. Removing his hand from within the brunet's pants, he gripped narrow shoulders and gently pushed the nibbling kitten away from his tingling neck. Fisting tufts of silky brown hair, he held the slick licked commander in place for a deep kiss. His tongue quickly slipped into the boy's sweetly tasting mouth, exploring every wet crevice.

Sucking on the slick appendage that invaded his mouth, Squall wrought forth a pleased hiss from the blond. His lips were bruised from the harsh meshing and needy consumption, but he hardly cared. It didn't matter that they were already late in flying to Dollet. His father could wait, and so could the rest of the world for that matter. He would walk with a cane if he had to, but he needed to have Seifer inside of him again. He wanted that feeling of being so completely filled that he was close to breaking. He wanted to feel ecstasy again. Anticipating having his rival inside him once again, his hips pressed harder against the blond's groin. Never breaking the kiss, he continued to rub against the hard bulge in Seifer's pants.

Releasing his grip on mussed tresses, Seifer pulled back and gaped at the commander. The reserved boy was proving to be a fucking sex demon in disguise. He had never seen someone so sultry or alluring. Desire emanated from the enticing kitten. Gulping, he realized exactly what the needy creature in his lap wanted. There were repercussions to take into consideration. Despite Squall's momentary enjoyment, the brunet would be upset later when forced to take a potion or bear the pain of an abused ass.

"We can't do this now," Seifer spoke with the voice of reason.

Somewhere in the back of Squall's mind, his sensible side began to awaken. It took several moments for him to come to his senses. Biting back his urge to protest, he slipped form the blond's lap. Straightening up, he was more than happy for all his belts. He tried to fix his hair, running a hand through the tangled mess.

Seifer stood, adjusting his trench coat to hide his prominent arousal. Glancing at the thoroughly disheveled commander, he saw apparent desire in blue-grey eyes. It was obvious the brunet still wanted more and he was hard pressed not to give it.

Squall couldn't believe how overwhelming his desire was. He wanted the ex-knight inside of him, so deep that there was no telling where they separated. He wanted to taste the heavy flavor of the ex-knight's semen again. Shaking his head, he tried to compose himself. Biting his lip out of habit, he calmed down a bit. At length, he realized the blond was staring at him. Could Seifer tell just how pathetically weak he was to his sudden urges?

"Squall?" Seifer murmured, seeing the struggle the commander was going through.

Releasing his abused lip, Squall looked up in uncertainty. A little embarrassed to ask for a sexual favor, he hesitated. Feeling childish for such indecision, he finally just came out with it. "It's a fifteen minute flight. Will you let me taste you?" When the blond simply gaped at him, he realized his wording might not have been very clear. Stepping closer, he trailed a hand down to the man's arousal. "Here," he added, palming the knight's stiff manhood.

Disbelieving for a long moment, Seifer finally came to. Grabbing the commander's wrist, he pulled the startled man along as he rushed out of the room.

TBC…


	26. Chapter 26

**Warning: **Mature content, NC17. If you are under aged, please do not read.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Terms of Engagement 

Stumbling onto Ragnarok's boarding ramp, Seifer pulled the commander along. The brunet would be the death of him. There was only so much he could take. Death by desire seemed one hell of a way to die. Before the steely eyed beauty caused his heart to overwork, he would reap the benefits that came with being the only person able to stake claim on the attractive swordsman.

With consideration for the open surrounding, Seifer released the younger man's hand and scoured the premise for spectators. Hitting the ramp's operating button on the box like control panel, he looked around the cold interior more thoroughly and saw no one. Glancing back he watched as Squall searched in a similar manner.

Transfixed for a moment, Seifer stared at the attractive face of his rival. The man was beautiful and handsome at the same time. He reached out and caught the attention of those bright eyes. With a small nudge he raised a delicate chin before leaning down to kiss inviting lips. They were warm and sinfully soft. Sighing, he felt Squall's lips, relishing the supple flesh that was still swollen from his previous ravishing.

Seifer teetered between deepening the exchange and backing off. Hovering a bare inch away from his target, he tried to keep his wits about him and remember that they were not in private. Needing another taste, he leaned in again, assuring himself that he would be brief.

Achingly soft, Seifer ghosted his lips across the commander's. Responsive to the light kiss, the brunet pressed closer. Feeling heat radiating off the younger man, he knew he couldn't continue. Squall's lips and body were more evident of raw sex than a sign plastered on the fighter's back that stated what they'd been up to. Forcing himself to back off before he lost control, he broke away grudgingly.

Though Seifer wasn't clear on certain boundaries, not knowing how secretive Squall intended to keep their relationship or even if the commander intended to have any continuing relationship at all, he chose to take caution. His presence as a bodyguard was noteworthy enough without causing a scandalous media frenzy for being the commander's bedmate.

Seifer smoothed his thumb over the bruised flesh of Squall's bottom lip. Holding the attention of blue-grey eyes, he knew they were both thinking along the same lines.

Squall was resigned to behaving appropriately, at least until he could find a nearby closet. Setting his mask of indifference in place, he stepped away from the handsome ex-knight and moved towards the stairs leading the second level of the ship.

Seifer trailed behind, enjoying the view. Remaining at the foot of the stairs, he watched the jostling sway of the commander's hips. He didn't bother following, because he had other plans.

Knowing why the blond knight didn't follow, Squall walked on alone. Nearing the cabin, he paused briefly to school his expression. He couldn't let the others see his hidden excitement. Once certain he couldn't be read like an open book, he thumbed the button to open the door.

Irvine and Selphie sat rigidly without glancing the commander's way.

"Let's go," Squall said, wondering how easily he could slip back down to the first level and join Seifer.

"Roger!" Selphie announced, hastily manning the controls and preparing for take off.

Waiting for a few moments, wondering if either SeeD wanted a word, Squall realized it would be easier to excuse himself than he had anticipated. Turning on foot, he simply left the cabin as quickly as he had entered. While he suspected something was going on between the pilot and gunman, there were too many possibilities for him to bother pinpointing the cause for their aloof behavior. His desire to be elsewhere greatly outweighed his curiosity regarding his friends' tense demeanors.

Below deck there were a scarce number of rooms in which Seifer could possibly be. Between a storage room, a relatively comfortable lounge, and a small bathroom, there weren't many options. As a small ship, Ragnarok was not equipped to host to a large crew or even a small crew for any extended amount of time. For speedy transportation it came in handy, but that was essentially its only use.

Concluding that the lounge was too open and that the bathroom was too small, Squall took a guess and decided to check the storage room first. Situated behind the stairs, he was about to open the doors when he heard someone approaching. Hearing the light steps, he knew it was Rui. Before he could step out into open view, the storage room doors hiss open and was promptly yanked backwards.

Distantly registering the sound of Rui storming up the stairs with an angry cry of protest, he refocused on the manhandling ex-knight. Pressed back against a stack of crates, demanding lips were upon him before he could speak.

In the dark room, the only illumination running alongside the path for cargo transport wasn't enough for unadjusted eyes to see very well. Squall quickly realized that feeling the ex-knight was more enjoyable given the circumstances, so he simply closed his eyes and kissed the man back. Hands sliding along a muscular chest, he pushed the blond's heavy trench coat off broad shoulders. The trip to Dollet would not take long, which limited the time he had to taste his former rival.

Seifer dropped his hands from the brunet's slim waist only long enough to let his coat drop to the floor. Nimble fingers raked down his chest and stomach, sending a shiver of pleasure along his spine.

Squall unclasped Hyperion. His urge to touch and taste the ex-knight had only grown since leaving the conference room. Showing as much consideration as he would expect for his own weapon, he gingerly set the older boy's blade against the sturdy boxes. With the gunblade out of the way, he worked on the blond's jeans next. Easing the zipper down, his fingers brushed along a heated bulge.

Seifer broke away with a hiss, staring ardently at the commander. With an understanding passing between them, the touch hungry kitten continued.

Squall slipped a hand beneath the elastic band of the ex-knight's boxers. He shivered as he felt the tender flesh of the hard cock hidden within. Licking his lips, he abruptly reversed their positions and pinned the blond against the crates. Easing the man's erection out into the open air, he shifted the rim of black boxer shorts down. The throbbing length stood proudly. Using the tip of his index finger, he traced the underside, amazed at how heated the length was.

With a heavy exhale, Seifer grinned. If he had known Leonhart was so adept at pleasuring a cock, he would have given the boy a chance years ago.

Sweeping his finger to the tip, Squall rubbed the glistening head. Glancing up, he saw the blond taking shallow breaths. Before continuing further, he retracted his hand and stepped away. Moving to the door, he flipped the lock on the side panel and proceeded to unstrap Lionheart. Propping his weapon next to Hyperion, he regarded the ex-knight with a faint smile.

Seifer watched sexy commander saunter away, exercising a great deal of restraint and remaining in place. As the seductively enticing lion stalked back to his side, he felt the urge to pinch himself and make certain he weren't dreaming. Fighting the urge, he decided to wait until after the best part to determine if it were real or not. When the brunet was within arm's reach again, he pulled the man closer and captured soft lips. Plundering the surprised commander's sweet mouth, he did not relent until he felt assured the stormy eyed beauty was on the verge of blacking out.

Breaking away, Squall inhaled sharply and glanced upwards into stark green eyes. Those lustful eyes practically shone with their own light in the dark room. Wishing he had more time, he subconsciously decided that there would be future opportunities to take it slow. Licking his lips, he studied his rival briefly, seeing features that were already so familiar. He would have been able to recognize Seifer by sight, touch, or scent.

Reaching down, Squall stroked the ex-knight's exposed cock. He watched as the blond rolled his head to the side while bucking into his hand. Slowly, he lowered down to his knees. Not quite familiar or comfortable with using his mouth, he was determined to improve.

Closing his eyes, Squall leaned forward and licked the head of the hardened penis. Bracing the blond's hips, he took the large member deeper into his mouth. Still finding his bearings on how best to pleasure the sensitive organ, he took as much as he could just to find his limit. When the tip rubbed the back of his throat he waited a moment to see if he would instinctively gag. When he felt confident that he could take a little more, he tentatively swallowed the tip.

Seifer fisted silky brown hair when that sinful mouth began to massage his cock towards climax. He inhaled sharply as the dangerously skilled learner drew away slightly and began to suck.

Pale cheeks concaved subtly with each sucking action. Dark lashes fell to shroud intently concentrating grey-blue eyes. Seifer watched in both fascination and ecstasy as his rival encased his throbbing length in wet heat. He groaned when a gentle hand grasped the base of his shaft and another tentatively fondled his balls.

Listening intently to the noises the ex-knight made, Squall's confidence grew. Using his hands along with his mouth, the older boy's hips were no longer restrained. Though he could hear how unraveled the blond was becoming, he was not prepared for thrusting hips that drove the man's cock deeper than he could handle. Quick to act, he replaced his hands on Seifer's pelvis and stayed the involuntary thrusts. Bobbing his head and swirling his tongue around the tip each time he pulled off far enough, he shivered in delight at the pleasured groans his rival gave off. The bitter taste of precum smeared down from the tip along his tongue, lubricating the throbbing length so it slid in and out with ease.

Alternating between sucking and swirling the head with his tongue, Squall continued. He was slowly losing himself. The ex-knight's shallow breathing was accompanied by hissed groans, and the sounds were shooting straight to his loins. His own breathing had become slightly labored as his heart raced and his mouth was too occupied to take deep breaths. Knowing the blond was nearing climax, his only warning was the tight fisting of his hair. Hot cum shot out of the jerking organ, filling his mouth. Overwhelmed by the unanticipated amount, he swallowed as best he could. He was unable to consume it all, trails of the thick fluid escaping his lips and running down his chin.

When the thick cock had spent itself, Squall slowly released the softening organ from his mouth. He inhaled deeply, catching his breath. Taking a moment, he eventually opened his eyes and tucked the knight's manhood beneath the confines of cotton and denim. Sitting back, he leaned heavily on bracing arms while continuing to catch his breath. He gazed up at Seifer. His own erection rubbed against the front of his pants, begging for attention.

Greens eyes staring with evident desire, Seifer pounced on the unsuspecting brunet, pushing the commander against the hard floor. Licking the brunet's chin, he tasted his spilled seed. Disliking his flavor, he quickly found something far sweeter beyond pout lips. Spreading lean legs with his knee, he pressed closer as he plundered the luscious mouth that had brought him to orgasm and sucked him dry.

As Seifer pressed against him, Squall felt himself hardening to the point of not being able to go back. "Seifer, please." He pushed the blond's shoulders. If man didn't get off, he wouldn't be able to just wait it out.

"You have no fucking idea, do you?" Seifer growled into the commander's ear, his voice deep and imposing. Running a hand down the writhing man's body he cupped the smaller swordsman's encased arousal.

Forcing his body not to buck into the pleasantly rubbing hand, Squall asked distractedly, "What?"

"How hot you are," the Seifer answered, setting the work on the many belts that disguised the bulge in dark leather pants. With a dull clank, he dropped the first of three belts to side. A quick glance up into lust dazed grey-blue eyes caused him to lose patience. "Do you really need so many damn belts?"

Rolling his eyes, Squall gave into his need to find release. He reached down to undo the remaining belts.

Swatting the brunet's hands away, Seifer set to work again and said, "I'll do it."

"They're a test of competence," Squall jibed, relaxing back again. The cool rush of air that came when the ex-knight roughly pulled his pants down was fleeting, as the blond stooped to encase his exposed erection in wet heat. Nearly jolting in surprise, he instinctively began to protest his rival's actions, but was silenced when a wandering hand trailed along his inner thigh and teasingly ran higher. Reminded of his strong desire to be filled once again, his legs involuntarily spread farther apart. He strained to open himself for invasion, his pants only riding down to his knees and impeding his efforts to invite his rival.

Seifer detected the commander's discontented frustration, knowing the sinfully oblivious kitten actually wanted to have sex again. With no lubricant on hand, he was reluctant to try anything. The brunet was no doubt still quite sore, and he was not a sadist by nature. Weak against the way stormy blue eyes gazed longingly at him, begging him to just do it, his willpower caved slightly. He edged his fingers closer to Squall's rosy little anus.

Squall's breath hitched when he felt the first finger push inside. Rough and mildly painful, he ignored the immediate sensation. Despite the lack of physical pleasure, it was terribly satisfying, more so than he could possibly understand. His body obediently waited, recalling how good it felt to have the ex-knight thrusting in and out of him.

While Seifer planned to toy with the commander's sensitive prostate, he had no intentions of inserting anything but his fingers. He would not fuck the boy senseless, no matter how badly he wanted to. Though he was influenced by his urges, he had enough self-control to temper his lust. It helped that he had already found release.

Gently nudging against resistant muscles, Seifer wondered how far finger fucking the tight hole would drive the brunet toward climax. Could the sensitive kitten orgasm from such ministrations alone? Curious as to how pleasurable the sex minx found taking it up the ass, he released the commander's cock from his mouth. Wanting to watch the results of his experiment, he shifted position. Lying alongside the younger man, he draped his arm around the compliant fighter and entered the tight entrance from behind. Dipping his head, he licked pout lips and nibbled on the bottom one. Knowing Squall had a habit of worrying the soft flesh, he decided to give it a try.

A faint blush crept to Squall's pale cheeks. Latent embarrassment set in as he recognized his own lascivious behavior. He was not inside his apartment where he could behave without inhibition or consequence. As an invading finger nudged deeper, he realized that he had no intention of stopping despite his understanding that he was being terribly lewd. Concluding that it was instead Seifer who brought forth new emotions and feelings inside of him, he realized the world separated from reality was not within his apartment, but present whenever he was in the presence of the ex-knight.

Shifting, Squall rested more atop the blond than beside. When the man finally rubbed him in exactly the right place, he nuzzled a spicy scented neck and gave a stifled moan of encouragement. Gripping the ex-knight's t-shirt, he arched back and impaled himself onto the stroking finger.

Seifer cursed at the restricting barrier of the commander's pants. Forced to work with what limited access he had, he slipped an arm around the lithe body in his hold, bracing what would have been a toned and smooth backside had there not been the thick bomber jacket in the way. Rolling over, he pulled his little demon atop himself and inserted a second finger.

Grinning arrogantly, Seifer watched as delicate fingers clenched his shirt and the younger man's tantalizing backside arched onto his hand. Pressing deeper, he thrust his fingers in and out, watching the commander's reaction intently. When the writhing man seemed close to the brink of climax, he firmly grasped the leaking erection that rubbed against any friction it could find between them. It was apparent the brunet would have come from his fingers alone, and he couldn't help but bully the writhing fighter with overwhelming sensations.

Moaning at the touch, Squall rocked into the calloused hand gripping his manhood. He became lost as he the fingers invading his body raked against some devastatingly pleasurable spot inside him. Arching higher, his purchasing hold on the blond's shirt dragged the garment up to reveal hard abs beneath. Pleasure wracking his whole body, lucid thought fled his mind as lust took over. He wanted more, so much more. He wanted to be filled completely, split until he knew he couldn't take anymore. Biting his lip, his lust demanded so much from him that he scarcely knew how to comply. He needed to have Seifer inside him again. The ex-knight's name rolled off his tongue, his attempts to stifle all sound failing as the man tortured him with pleasure. Climbing toward orgasm, he felt his control slip.

As though experiencing the commander's pleasure via his voyeur, Seifer breathed unsteadily as the lithe beauty rocked harder against his hand. To see the exposed ice prince reacting so honestly to physical desire, he could not help but watch in awe. It was not a sight he would easily grow accustom to. How had he not seen the buried passion and fire inside his rival? How had he not been tempted to touch the strangely alluring fighter?

Brought mercilessly to fulfillment, Squall met his end quickly. Spurting his seed into the ex-knight's fisting hand, he gave a small simper, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to keep his cry of ecstasy from resounding through the entire ship.

"So fucking hot," Seifer whispered, banging his head against the cold floor a few times to clear his dazed mind.

Collapsing against a solid chest, Squall rested for a moment. Quite satisfied, he drifted in the endorphin-induced bliss that followed. He had never understood why some people were driven by sexual desire. Now, he was entirely sympathetic to the plight faced when a person was in sore need of release and when the body demanded certain types of stimulation.

Heterosexual pride remaining completely silent, apparently unable to find fault in his attraction, Seifer sampled the commander's sticky release. It was significantly sweeter than his own and far more appealing. Knowing where it had come from made it more appetizing as well.

Grey-blue eyes watched the ex-knight with subdued fascination. Leaning up, his actions were not directed by rational thought.

Seifer felt heat stir in his loins once again as the sated minx began to lick his hand clean. He was completely enthralled and very turned on.

A light blush graced Squall's cheeks again. Choppy strands of silky hair fell to shroud his eyes as he consumed his release with indifference to the taste.

Swallowing thickly, Seifer did not blink. He watched as a pink tongue darted out from behind swollen red lips and lapped away the milky substance. When an apparently hungry kitten finished, mesmerizing eyes glanced at him. Unable to speak, he simply stared.

Squall searched jade-green eyes for some reaction. The blond seemed dumbstruck, though he couldn't imagine why. Feeling a little perturbed and defensive, he looked away and muttered, "It would have been a mess otherwise." Straightening, he awkwardly maneuvered his pants back up.

"How have you not been raped?" Seifer finally spoke in question, giving a dry scoff to express his ill humor. While his words did not carry the right sentiment, the principle question was the same. How had he not been attracted to Leonhart before? How had he not seen the younger man's lithe figure in the locker room and grown hard at the sight? How in Hyne's name had the terribly alluring commander been a virgin until the age of eighteen?

Brows knitting, Squall regarded the blond sardonically. "Lionheart helps," he answered quite seriously.

Plagued by many questions, Seifer simply commented, "I can imagine." Reaching out, he pulled the brunet back against himself. The conclusion that his rival should not have been a virgin prior to his defiling the previous night incited jealousy within him. The knowledge that the oblivious commander had countless admirers and a rather perverted stalker was suddenly greatly unsettling.

"Wha-" Squall began to question, but was cut off.

"Just until we land," Seifer admonished, pressing the brunet's head down to his chest and holding the younger man close.

With his head against the toned chest of his oldest acquaintance, Squall listened to the slightly accelerated beating of the man's heart. When strong arms wrapped around him and held him tightly, he didn't question it.

"What are we now?" Seifer asked after a moment, squeezing tighter. There was something stirring within him and he didn't have the faintest idea what it was. Every second that passed seemed to endear the brunet to him more and more.

While they had previously settled for unanswered questions and let the flame flare madly with whatever lust had awoken, the flame was not dying out as expected. The overwhelming passion between them did not cease to burn or threaten to die out any time soon.

Seifer was at a loss for what had changed between them. He squeezed the little lion even tighter, knowing he needed to figure it out.

"I still don't know," Squall answered. They had already had a conversation concerning what had changed and how to deal with it. He was not prone to repeating himself, but could make an exception considering they had never actually figured out the answer.

Lifting his head, Seifer placed a soft kiss to the top of wayward brown hair. "Then what can we be?" he followed up. He wasn't sure if he was unconsciously fishing for a specific answer or just thinking out loud. His diffidence was troublesome.

As the ship rocked to a landing, Squall started within the hold of the knight. Needing to slip into the bathroom before anyone saw him in his disheveled state, he began to pull away.

Reluctantly, Seifer released his hold. Letting his rival slip away from his grasp was becoming a redundant and irksome action. Even while sleeping, the restless commander pulled away. He couldn't help but wonder if he were the only one growing attached. He watched as the darkly clad man deftly replaced several strewn belts and strapped Lionheart back on.

TBC…


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

You Can Lead a Horse

Irvine and Selphie had been acting strangely, more so than usual. Squall was beginning to feel uncomfortable and slightly suspicious. The entire walk to Dollet consisted of furtive glances at himself.

If he didn't have full confidence in the fact that his two choices in party members would disregard all matters in light of a mission, then he would have been inclined to ask what was going on. As it was, he was a bit annoyed by it, but could ignore it as easily as he ignored most other things.

Rui, on the other hand, was acting indifferent to both Selphie and Irvine. The boy was more than a little upset at the ride on Ragnarok. The moment they had walked off the ramp, the young thief had knelt on the ground and rejoiced at being on solid footing again.

So the five of them walked through the streets in a group. Selphie and Irvine casting glances at Squall and sometimes Seifer, while Rui glared at Irvine and Selphie.

Had it not been for the slightly chaotic setting then they would have made headlines no sooner than stepping within Dollet's boundary.

As a precaution, when they moved further towards the heart of the city, Squall and Seifer took the lead. Rui trailed behind as far as he could manage without losing sight of either the brunet or blonde. It wasn't that the boy didn't know the way, but being back in Dollet and having disclosed information about Epson had its risks. So, staying within sight of those he could call out to for help was a safety matter. As for the gunman and energetic pilot, they trailed further behind, keeping their eye on Rui.

With their group scattered, they blended in with the crowd well enough. Only once did Seifer and Squall have to duck into a random alleyway to escape the prowling eyes of a cameraman.

For an apprehensive minute, Squall halted his steps just outside The Harold.

With one booted foot on the first of several steps, Seifer turned back and looked to the brunet with a questioning glance.

When Squall just frowned and stared at the ground in reverie, Seifer almost laughed. It had taken him a moment to realize why the brunet was stalling. "Daddy dearest can't be that bad," he consoled.

Sardonically, Squall looked at Seifer. Obviously the knight hadn't been around his father enough to understand. Running a hand through his choppy hair, he took a steadying breath. It was ridiculous that he was so reluctant to walk through that door. Even with a pressing time frame, he was procrastinating. That alone was testament to just how awkward his relation with his father was. It was more than a likely that they would never have a normal relationship.

Shaking his head at his ridiculous behavior, Squall moved forward. However, another thought struck him just before Seifer opened the door. Grabbing the blonde's arm, Squall looked into green eyes earnestly. "Whatever Laguna does, don't make him feel bad."

"Come on Princess, I've already made a good impression. I _have_ met the guy before." Seifer replied with a grin.

"I remember." Squall recalled the slightly sarcastic comments Seifer had made during the meal. Thankfully, the blonde had said them too low for Laguna to hear, since they were at the caring man's expense. "He means well enough, so just let him be." For the life of him, Squall didn't know why he was even bothering. For whatever reason, he didn't want to see those caring eyes of his father look hurt. Everyone understood that Laguna did things in an unconventional manner, but Seifer could be cold when it came to such matters.

"I promise to play nice," Seifer stated flatly, with a tone implying appeasement.

"You will, or I won't sleep with you again," Squall threatened, brushing past Seifer. Wrenching open the door, he stalked in.

Shocked, Seifer stood still. 'He wouldn't,' his mind affirmed, 'would he?' If Squall had been abstinent for eighteen years, there was no telling what the brunet might do. "Squall?" he called out, hurriedly following the brunet.

Just inside the small alcove of The Harold's entryway, Squall couldn't help but give a smile at hearing his name called out. It might be fun to have this sort of control over the blonde.

Stepping further into the bar, he had only enough time to see that the place was empty before his vision was obscured within the folds of a light blue dress shirt. Adjusting his head, he rested his chin over Laguna's shoulder, not wanting to suffocate. At full height he wasn't much shorter than the longhaired president, however when his head was being pressed down, it was difficult to stand up straight.

"I'm fine," he assured, gray-blue eyes scanning the room. The place was vacant, just as he'd initially thought. Kiros was standing near the bar counter, leaning casually against the polished wood. Mike, the ex-Galbadian soldier, was drying a mug with a white linen rag all the while smirking with pent up laughter.

After the first couple minutes, Squall stared lamely forward, his body effectively pinned within the crushing arms of a longhaired, goofball president. When Laguna hadn't relented the hold in the least, and actually went so far as to stroke his hair, he desperately looked to Kiros. Gesturing with his eyes he begged, 'Get this lunatic off me.'

Dark eyes sparkled with amusement. Kiros shook his head silently. While his heart reached out to the Commander, he found the entire display most amusing. Besides, there was no swaying his stubborn companion. If Laguna wanted to hug his son, then that's exactly what was going to happen. Normally, it wouldn't have been a problem, except for the little fact that _Squall Leonhart _was the son in the situation.

Eventually, Laguna seemed to register that Squall was squirming to break away.

Stepping back quickly, as if afraid of having a repeated hug, Squall hissed out, "I told you, I'm fine."

Seifer, who had been clenching his fists through the uncalled for fatherly greeting, took his place at Squall's side. Hovering closely, his presence assured no repeated performances. Although, if letting the President hug Squall meant having sex with the bright-eyed brunet, then he was willing to compromise.

Sighing, Squall crossed his arms and leaned to the side slightly. His chosen direction to lean towards just so happened to be nearer to Seifer. Their shoulders brushed, or rather his shoulder brushed Seifer's upper arm. The comforting reassurance that washed over him was surprising. Without even having to confirm it, he knew the blonde would prevent any more physical contact between himself and his father.

It might have been cruel, but Squall had never been a very touchy feely person. In fact, he was at the other end of the spectrum on all accounts of social interaction. It was a wonder how Laguna could possibly be his father, when they differed so extremely in most every matter.

Still, he had some attachment to the idea of having a parent. How could he not have? He'd grown up wondering and wishing. Although, by the time he was twelve, he'd pretty much given up hope and often times felt anger about it. But now, even if he didn't love Laguna or like the guy very much, he would continue to try and forge some bond.

Taxingly, that bond required his patient acceptance of the ex-soldier's friendly manner.

Taking another moment to steel himself, Squall sighed, and carried on with the informal meeting. "I'm perfectly fine."

Concerned green-hazel eyes looked at him imploringly. "It might be post traumatic. You should see a doctor…"

"I've already been officially discharged," Squall interjected. Did any of his accomplishments in his eighteen years of life mean anything? Could people think so little of him as to imply he hadn't even seen a doctor? It was frustrating.

Perceptively, Kiros watched the pained emotions that escaped the carefully maintained façade of Laguna's son. The boy was a far cry from the man his father was. No less honorable or commendable in any respect, just terribly conflicting to the president's own specific type of personality.

Walking from the bar, he patted his friend on the back, consoling an uncertain father. "The boy looks healthy enough. There's nothing to worry about."

"I know that," Laguna pouted, more in defense than for the actual observation.

Kiros seemed immune to all of Laguna's little quirks, and carried on as though nothing had happened. Turning to Squall, he asked, "Why are we meeting here?"

Shaking his head, Squall ignored the question. It wasn't relevant where they met, what mattered was why they met. "Laguna," he couldn't help the fraction of a pause he gave when seeing his father wince at being called by name, "There needs to be a public statement issued from Esthar. With Fenrir dead, this is going to come crashing down on our heads."

It was understood that the 'this', which Squall was referring to, was the recently signed Balamb-Esthar Alliance, the missile launched, and Fenrir's death. It was a broad 'this'. As Commander of Balamb Garden, he would stand behind the agreement one hundred percent, but he would do everything he could to avoid a colossal misunderstanding that was sure to happen with the events of the past day.

Chuckling, Laguna smiled at the young Commander before saying, "You sound just like Kiros."

A small nod from the lanky man beside Laguna told Squall that they were both of the same mindset.

Kiros didn't say anything further until it was obvious that Squall was waiting to hear their plan of action. "We've already been in contact with the press. The statement will be released with papers tomorrow, and there is a conference scheduled this evening."

"And what of Fenrir?" Squall asked, not knowing off the top of his head who would be taking over as Governor of Dollet.

"The conference will oversee the induction of Thomas Clarmont, a senior counsel member of the Parliament and Chief Magistrate," Kiros said smoothly.

The door opened again, and three arguing bodies filled the alcove.

"Where the hell did you get this kid?" Irvine asked, pushing Rui ahead so the boy stumbled a few steps.

Sidling up to Squall, Rui clasped a hand to the worn leather sleeve of the brunet's jacket and tried to look as innocent as possible.

"Rui," Squall began, turning steely eyes down on the boys spiky dark hair, "What did you do?"

"Nothin' honest," Rui defended, giving a small tug on the sleeve as if begging to be believed.

Huffing, Selphie started in, "Hey, how can you lie to Squall?"

Holding a gloved hand up, Squall silenced Selphie. "Lying isn't about the person you tell it to," he reminded before turning his attention back to Rui. Kneeling lower, he brought himself level to the young boy's height. Looking sternly into dark eyes, he held the gaze briefly before speaking, "Did you at least give it back?"

Dark brown eyes widened and the innocent look was dropped along with a slightly gaping mouth. "Can you read my mind?"

"Answer the question," Squall replied. His tone wasn't reprimanding or patronizing, but it held no room for argument.

"Well, the lady was so careless she practically deserved to have it taken," Rui broke down and tried to defend his actions.

"Did you return it yet?" The look on Squall's face almost implied boredom, but his voice held a sincerity that conveyed just how much he cared. It was perhaps the most difficult part to disguise. In his experience, people's ears tended to pick up more than the eyes. He could always look uncaring and cold, but he couldn't always sound it.

Hands on hips, Rui complained, "Marlboro man over there made me."

Seifer laughed, earning a glare from the kneeling brunet. Rolling his green eyes he gestured for Squall to continue.

"Need I remind you that you are now a first year student in my Garden?" Lowering his voice, Squall spoke so only Rui could hear, "You're not just a thief anymore." Standing straight again, Squall ran a hand through his hair. "If it happens again, it'll be a week of detention with Raijin."

Seifer smirked at the uncertain look on Rui's face. "That would be the friend of mine you met before."

"No," the boy stated abruptly, turning his eyes to Squall imploringly.

"Then we are in agreement," Squall stated. Considering the matter resolved, he returned attention to the rest of the group.

Seifer felt his mood lighten a bit. Back in Mike's bar, where there was always good food, the supposedly disastrous situation with Fenrir wasn't so disastrous after all, and Squall was free for the night. He didn't even seem to hate the thieving brat as much. Although, that might have been because the kid had just gotten in trouble.

The day was certainly going better than he'd expected. Now, he just had to stay on Squall's good side. Or, was it on Laguna's good side so that he'd inadvertently be on the brunet's good side? Regardless, he was in a happy mood.

Clapping a hand to Squall's back, he urged the slender man to move further in. "Mike," he called out. The older barman had disappeared through the swinging door just a moment ago. "Is our food almost ready?" he asked, knowing the genius to the barman's methods.

Selphie walked forward, trailing after Squall with much confusion on her face. "Squall, what's going on?"

Turning his head towards the boundless ball of joy, Squall gave her questioning look.

Skipping to follow beside the Commander, Selphie cast a furtive glance at the blonde knight who was currently directing Squall to a table. There were too many questions to be asked and not nearly enough chance that Squall would answer them all. "Rui stole a wallet from some poor old lady and you don't seem surprised. And, that guy who was just behind the bar was the same guy I saw with you when the wave was going to hit."

Scooting into a long curved booth, Squall stared off pensively. After thinking on the matter, he decided that he really didn't have any right to disclose details on Rui's past. And, the idea of telling Selphie that he and Seifer had spent the night in the very bar they were in now wasn't too appealing. "Sometimes it's just not necessary to know everything."

Pouting her bottom lip she gave her best puppy dog look.

"I, for one, am rather curious about what you've been up to the passed few days," a low toned voice drawled. Tilting his hat back, Irvine stared into guarded gray-blue eyes.

Happily content to be eating another meal with his son, Laguna scooted around the long curved seating area next to Squall. Expectantly, the older man waited for his dark skinned companion to follow suit.

With a sigh, Kiros sat beside Laguna. Getting information out of this group was like pulling teeth. Either they didn't talk or another problem arose to interrupt.

Glaring daggers at the Cowboy, Seifer made to take his place on his charge's right side. Before he could close the distance, Rui popped up from underneath the table. With deft ease, the boy slid up and into the seat beside Squall.

If they didn't need the boy to get closer to Epson, then Seifer would have killed him. At least the kid wasn't running that loud mouth off. Probably just humble enough to know when to shut up.

Seifer didn't want to draw attention to his specific displeasure at not being able to sit beside Squall. It was bad enough that he couldn't rid himself of the desire to have his hands all over the brunet, but he couldn't very well give into it. Not to mention the suspicious glances that the Messenger Girl and Cowboy had been giving him and his new sex kitten. He knew of the sharpshooter's reputation, so there was no doubt that the man had already pieced together what was going on. For the sake of not making it plain as day to Tilmitt, he'd refrain from stealing gropes, which meant letting the thieving brat sit beside the Commander.

Groaning in frustration, Selphie dropped the sad look and sulked. Grumpily she reached up and grabbed Irvine's hat, which was no small feat, given her height.

"Hey darlin', you know the rules," Irvine chastised, brushing the tail of his auburn hair from his shoulder.

"I'm in a grumpy mood, this makes me happy," was all the answer she supplied before pushing Irvine into the booth.

Reluctantly, Irvine allowed himself to be directed, though he wasn't the least bit happy with sitting next to Seifer.

Donning the cowboy hat, which rode low on her head, Selphie sidled up beside Irvine. Being further away from Squall gave her a better view of the brunet. Ever since they'd debarked Ragnarok, she'd been trying to _stare_ at the Commander. Naturally Squall noticed everything and she couldn't do it very inconspicuously.

"Hey, Tilmitt," Seifer said conspiratorially.

Both Squall and Selphie regarded the blonde with similar expressions of apprehension.

Leaning forward, Seifer gestured towards the closed door of the kitchen behind the bar. Light brown hair bounced, as the girl turned her head swiftly towards the direction he gestured, and then back. The hat she wore nearly spun sideways with the movement.

With his green eyes alight with mischief, Seifer whispered, "I think Mike could use a hand in the kitchen."

"Cooking?" Selphie asked immediately, turning again to stare at the closed door.

"Yup," the knight answered.

Selphie's eyes sparkled and she turned a pleading gaze to Squall. "Can I? Can I? Can I?" she asked in quick succession.

Squall's initial reaction was to tell her she couldn't, but then he recalled the new nickname he'd acquired with thanks to the older ex-soldier. "Just don't set anything on fire."

"Whoo-hoo!" Selphie cried, jumping from the booth and bolting to the counter. In one leap, she levied herself over the polished counter and disappeared through the door.

Neither Laguna nor Kiros seemed to know what had just transgressed. It wasn't until the sounds of pots and pans clattering loudly that they began to get some idea.

"Almasy you little ingrate," Mike's deep voice bellowed out before the door to the kitchen even opened. With a harsh slam, the door swung open and the older man's stout form filled the doorway.

"I thought you could use some help," Seifer said with a grin.

"Anything she breaks goes on your tab," the older man countered before turning back.

Though amused, Squall didn't show it. He sat impassive, wondering how much trouble one girl could cause.

Irvine let out a hearty chuckle. Slouching back, the auburn haired gunman listened to the disturbing sounds of mayhem filtering through into the spacious room they occupied. If he knew Selphie, then the walls would need repainting, the stove and countertops replacing, not to mention the possible psychological damage she might cause.

Truthfully, Seifer had expected as much to happen. Regardless of who paid for damages, in the end Mike would still be pissed off, so it was worth it.

The group sat patiently, with an awkward lack of conversation. Squall had opted to rest his head back and close his eyes. Whether the brunet was just escaping the people around him or resting after yet another long night with little sleep, no one knew.

Irvine did his best to disregard Rui's little discrepancy out on the street and the fact that he had no idea where the kid came from. Overlooking all that, he chose to ask the boy about his intentions at Garden and perhaps learn a little about why the kid was with them.

One by one, each dish was brought out by their bouncy waitress, who had donned a dark green apron with The Harold's logo on it and a faux chef's hat made from white napkins with what appeared to be staples holding it together.

Smiling, she first returned Irvine's hat and then set a small plate with a couple slices of toast in front of Squall before turning to bound back into the kitchen.

Pausing in his next question about where Rui grew up, Irvine watched Selphie retreat. Adjusting his hat to sit right, he said, "At least he knows enough to not give her more than one plate at a time. What's his name?"

"Michael Garrant," Squall answered, still keeping his eyes closed and surprising everyone.

"He's a former Galbadian soldier," Seifer added.

"Lieutenant Garrant is the reason I became a soldier," Kiros stated matter-of-factly, leaning forward.

Before Seifer could bite out a sarcastic remark, the all-seeing Commander reached under the table and pinched his leg. The brunet didn't even open his eyes, which made Seifer wonder just how the man knew he was going to speak.

Rui stifled a laugh, knowing that the Commander had just reprimanded the brute of a knight. It was satisfying. As it was, he was in a depressed mood. The Commander had just yelled at him. Well, not really yelled, but he thought he'd seen a bit of disappointment in those gray-blue eyes.

Sinking back into the cushioned booth seat, Rui folded his arms and subtly leaned closer to the pale Commander that he was becoming fonder of. Initially he'd been desperate to be on the older boy's good side, since Squall Leonhart was the embodiment of strength and power. If anyone could protect him, Commander Leonhart could. But now… now, he was intrigued and drawn to the brunet. He'd never met anyone like the guy. He had tried to figure it all out, but failed. Between the rumors he heard and his own observations, nothing added up.

With a sigh, sounding all too much like the serious Commander, Rui brooded. He knew the reason he was brought along on this expedition was for some set up with Epson. He wanted to feel apprehensive and nervous, but he only felt like pouting over Squall's words to him.

It wasn't long before Selphie had brought out the rest of the dishes. Laguna beamed over his mountain of an ice cream sundae, which was a bit messy since it was the only item Mike had allowed Selphie to make. Kiros and Mike were in a deep discussion of some mission that they'd been assigned on the same team for some odd number of years back.

Selphie ignored her plate full of waffles in order to watch Laguna's reaction. "There's a second cherry underneath the ice cream," she cheered as the equally cheerful man took his first spoonful.

"This is better than Jerry's Deli," Rui commented, greedily munching on a turkey on rye with the best dressing he'd ever tasted.

Seifer observed the plates everyone else had been served and then he looked at Squall's. Just two slices of dry toast, neither of which had been touched. "Two slices of toast?" he questioned incredulously.

Hardly missing a stride while talking with his old subordinate, the assured and experienced barman waved the knight off. "I doubt Princess would eat anything more."

"Nonsense," Seifer thought aloud. Lifting his plate, he scraped some hash browns and eggs right on top of the uneaten toast. "Hey, Marlboro, lend me your fork."

"I need it," Irvine refused, eyes trained on his slice of pizza. He didn't like the new name given to him by some pick pocketing first year cadet, and he especially disliked it coming from the arrogant mouth of the knight.

Rolling his jade eyes, Seifer reached over and grabbed the utensil. "Use your hands, like everyone else." He plopped the fork down in front of Squall.

Raising his head up, Squall opened his eyes and looked blankly up at the blonde.

"Eat up Princess," Seifer said, reaching around the boy between them and ruffling the unruly mop of hair.

"You can have some of my sandwich," Rui offered, wondering if they should all be giving the Commander food. The man did look small for an eighteen year old, though that may have just been the perception of the type of eighteen year old that Commander Leonhart was supposed to be.

"He doesn't like turkey," Seifer commented before he could really think about it.

Jaw clenched, Squall crossed his arms and sat back. Refusing to eat, he closed his eyes again and rested his head.

"That's why I didn't push it. Same old Almasy, pushy bastard," Mike said with a chuckle, before resuming his focus to the conversation that now included Laguna.

Grumbling under his breath, Seifer mimicked the brunet's posture. Keeping his eyes open, he studied the pale face of the young man he'd known most his life. Hyne, how he wanted to jump his stubborn charge.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

More Than Sex

Gray-blue eyes stared off towards the heavy wooden door of The Harold's main entrance. Squall was deep in thought, nearly unreachable by the outside world. However, the strong clap of his shoulder jolted him back to reality.

Startled a bit, Squall fixed his eyes on the blonde knight beside him. Seifer had just called him back from his own musings and now he had no idea what was going on.

Green eyes studied the vacant expression. Seifer was curious what was going on inside that head of the quite and brooding Commander. "Your father," he spoke at length, gesturing with raised eyebrows for the brunet to look the other way.

Squall looked over at Laguna, who watched him expectantly. "Sorry, what was it?" he asked.

Laguna continued to watch his son, concern evident in his expression. In an instinctive movement, he began to raise his hand out, but stopped abruptly. "Are you feeling alright?" He settled for words, since Squall didn't seem to like being touched.

"I'm fine," Squall supplied as an answer, not knowing what the problem was.

Seifer was a bit more perceptive on the matter. The President was not used to Squall and all the quirks that the brunet had. "You'll have to forgive him, it's been a childhood problem of his. He gets a little lost up there." He gestured to Squall's head.

Hazel-green eyes widened before dimming and looking rather forlorn. "Oh, I see…." Laguna trailed off. Was he the only person to find Squall's behavior odd? Perhaps he was, and it was only because he was the only one to not know a damn thing about his own son.

Sparing a harsh glare to Seifer, Squall regarded his father with a mixed expression of unguarded emotions. It was the look in Laguna's eyes at the moment that he'd been hoping to never see. How could he assure the man that he'd done nothing wrong and that his indifference to everything didn't mean he disliked him?

Not willing to reveal any emotion, Squall hastily retreated back behind his icy mask of cold and impassionate expressions. "I was just thinking," he elaborated.

"Imagine Laguna, your boy, thinking." Kiros jibed, squeezing his friend's shoulder.

Weakly scoffing, Laguna feigned amusement. "Yeah, it's a wonder we're related," he replied, a bit more seriously than he wanted it to sound.

Stricken for a moment, the dark skinned man appeared uncertain and concerned about the President's words. Clearing his throat, he stood up and smoothed out his clothes.

With a wistful smile Laguna stood as well. The pair of them wore similar clothes, but held completely different appearances. Side by side, the contrast was considerable.

The presidential advisor was primed in a dark navy suit, sharply cut. Even after sitting for the better part of an hour, the suit had no wrinkles. The burgundy tie was straight and each button on the crisp white dress shirt was aligned perfectly.

Laguna, on the other hand, left his suit jacket somewhere else, he couldn't quite recall exactly where. His light blue dress shirt was unbuttoned enough to show his collar, and his tie hadn't been in place since he'd left Esthar. His dark slate pants were at least in order.

Sweats would have sufficed, if this had been a personal trip only. However, Kiros had told him to look nice, since he was the president and because of the conference in Dollet.

While he stood up from the booth that the group had been sharing for breakfast, he really could have cared less if he'd gone before that council in nothing but a swimming Speedo. His mind was entirely preoccupied with the sudden realization that he was the only person who knew nothing about Squall Leonhart, his own flesh and blood.

Six months ago when he'd first seen the boy, the spitting image of Rain, he'd been taken aback. A son to make any father proud, Squall had accomplished more in a short eighteen years than most men did in a lifetime. And yet, after the fan fair that followed the defeat of Ultimecia, he was struggling to understand the boy. It didn't seem possible to be so distant and cut off from the world, but that was exactly how the brunet was. He could count the number of times he'd seen the young Commander smile on one hand, and none of them had been true smiles.

Perhaps it wouldn't have been so heart breaking if he didn't feel so drawn to the boy. He wanted more than anything in the world to become a real father to Squall. But, the more he tried, the further away he seemed to become. Ultimecia's knight knew more about his boy than he did.

Swallowing the unbecoming lump in his throat, Laguna blinked a few times. Plastering a cheerful smile to his face, he looked back at Squall. "Tonight, I'd like it if we could get together, just the two of us," he proposed.

The fact that he wasn't instantly dreading the idea was more than a surprise to Squall. Not showing any feelings on the matter, one way or the other, he gave a small nod of ascension. The broad smile that grace the other man's face at this, made his chest constrict. Those mixed green eyes of the president were suddenly so hopeful that he felt a surge of guilt. He wasn't trying to hurt the man or be difficult, but he couldn't change who he was, not for anyone. If Laguna had some fantasy relationship in mind, then the longhaired man had best extinguish that torch right now.

"We need to go," Kiros reminded.

"Right, then, will you be at Balamb Garden tonight?" Laguna asked, remembering to set up the details on the spot for once.

"I'll be here, in The Harold," Squall answered. He didn't want to let anyone else know about the other reason for being in Dollet.

"Oh," Laguna responded mildly surprised, but too focused on his meeting with his son to care. "Then, I'll be here around seven,"

"Eight," Kiros corrected, knowing they would probably be delayed.

"Eight," the president affirmed, with a questioning glance to the brunet.

Another nod was Squall's acceptance of the set terms.

With a fleeting smile, Laguna said goodbye to everyone at the table. Kiros was close in tow.

"He seemed sad," Selphie commented, watching the two leave.

Biting his lip for a moment, Squall released it before responding to the comment, "He was." It was more a thoughtful observation than a response. However, his words earned a comforting ruffle of his hair from the knight at his side.

"So, where did Rui go, and why is Irvine keeping him safe?" Selphie asked. Her smile was friendly, but her words were sharp and serious.

Pale features tensed in thought as Squall considered Selphie's question. With a sigh, the brunet relaxed his face and straightened up. Taking a hold of the small plate of mounted food before him, he extracted the bottom most piece of toast. Carefully dumping what Seifer had left for him to eat, he took a small bite while scooting around the booth.

Standing up, with his toast in hand, Squall looked at the blonde. "I trust you can tell her without any bias," he said. Turning away, he walked towards the bar counter. Rounding the long barrier, he entered the kitchen.

"Bias?" Seifer questioned under his breath, "What bias? The kid's annoying as hell, nothing biased about that."

Running her thumb along a jumper strap to set it in place, Selphie shifted to become more comfortable. "What?" she questioned, hearing the blonde say something, but not quite hearing it.

Smoothing his jaw over with a hand, Seifer decided to tell the girl quickly and then follow Squall. "Since we happen to be in the neighborhood, we're going to set Squall's stalker up and take the guy down. Rui is our link." His green eyes rose toward the ceiling in a mental check, "Yeah, that about covers it," he finished with a smile, starting to move around the bend.

"Huh?" Selphie was at a loss. "Who is Rui? I mean, he's a new cadet, but since when has Squall been so close to him?"

"Come on Tilmitt, is it really that important?" The blonde gave an impatient look to the energetic pilot before looking imploring at the closed doorway behind the bar.

Crossing her arms in an attempt to look broodingly impatient like the Commander, Selphie gave the knight an expectant glare.

Running a hand through his hair, Seifer sat directly across from the nunchaku wielding, yellow jumper wearing young woman. Near the edge, he was ready to leave, but kept his place. The wrath of the happy girl was legendary, and not something he wanted to incur. Appearances were far more than deceiving with this one. So happy and cheerful, but if angered or in a fight, she'd become almost bloodthirsty. Well, bloodthirsty in the sense that she enjoyed explosions. He remembered when she buried little bombs beneath her sand castles, watching them explode gave her a fit of giggles for the rest of the day.

Shaking the memory of a trigger-happy young Tilmitt from his mind, Seifer tried again to condense the explanation. "Rui Valdez is from Dollet, he was hired by a man called Epson. It is more than likely that this guy is our stalker. Rui was supposed to take more pictures for this sick fuck, but the coward broke down and cried sanctuary to Squall. Now, and I'm assuming this part, we are going to set a trap."

"How old is he?" she asked in reference to the dark haired young boy.

With a wave of the hand, Seifer answered, "I don't know, thirteen or something."

"So, how did he get involved in the first place?" Her bright green eyes looked across the rounded table at the one person she never thought would ever be jumping about with impatience to be near Squall. The not so subtle glances that the blonde kept casting to the kitchen door were making her believe that there was definitely something less than professional about the way the pair always stayed close.

"The kid's got a bad track record. And before you ask anymore, you should know, that while I personally dislike the runt with a passion, it's not my place to tell you."

Selphie's eyebrows furrowed and an uncommon frown pulled her lips downward. "Bad track record?" she questioned.

"Tilmitt, let it go. Suffice to say, he's eating out of Princess' palm and he's our only lead," Seifer answered, biting out each word with frustrated impatience.

Mulling over what Seifer had told her, Selphie settled for gleaning more facts out as they all went along. With a roll of her eyes, she dismissed the antsy man. It was amusing watching how the tall knight shot to his feet and rushed across the tavern like room. It was ever more fun to stop him half way. "Wait," she called out, suppressing a grin.

"What?" Seifer practically growled.

"What about Mike?" she asked.

"He's the owner of this fine establishment and a trusted friend," he said brusquely, in an almost sarcastic manner.

"Oh, and how long have you-"

"Tilmitt," Seifer cut off, "Is it really necessary to keep me from doing my job?"

Pouting her bottom lip, Selphie swung her brown boots to the side of the seat, swinging her feat back and forth. "One more question, and I'll let you leave."

With a creeping sense of unease, Seifer turned around with a rigid structure. Narrowing his eyes he watched the apparent amusement the girl was having. With his jaw set sternly, he raised a brow in gesture for her to ask the question.

Now that she could ask the blonde what might be going on, she found herself at a loss for the right words. Being blunt was not usually a problem, but speaking the words she had in her head was just wrong when pertaining to Squall. Were Irvine's suspicions true? Were Seifer and Squall involved romantically? If so, then for how long? Had they always been like that? Was Irvine being ridiculous? If Squall and Seifer were screwing each other, then what about Rinoa?

Her green eyes widened with remembrance. "What about Rinoa?" she suddenly blurted out.

A grin spread across Seifer's face. After a moment, he settled into his cocky stance and replied, "Rinoa's fine, she's living with a friend here in the city." With that as his masterful answer, he took a swift leave, stalking across the remainder of the room.

* * *

It was late.

Dark shadows were cast across the room with minimal light from the rising moon. Pale streams of moonlight snuck by the haphazardly closed curtains.

Squall fidgeted within the blonde's relentless hold.

"Go to sleep," Seifer chastised, his voice no louder than a whisper.

"I can't," Squall stated. His mind was wandering and didn't seem capable of shutting down.

With a sigh, Seifer loosened his hold around the brunet. "It wasn't that bad." Removing one arm, he turned onto his back. With the lithe form still within the crook of his other arm, he pulled Squall on top of his chest.

Fully clothed, the two young men lay in bed. Seifer had debated the matter a considerable number of times in his head. After the eventful day, it would border on abuse if he pushed the brunet for more sex. The Commander would most likely comply readily, but thus far, the little lion hadn't proved a very good judge of physical limits.

So, the knight had instigated nothing more than light petting and restrained kisses. As the hours dwindled and they could not wait up for the cowboy and thief to return, Seifer had insisted they turn in for the night.

With hospitality and a few curses, Mike had set the three of them up with rooms. They would of course pay, since they were using more than just a free-be, which Seifer had used the previous night.

With two rooms, Seifer was able to use the bodyguard excuse well enough to explain it. While he really did want to keep an eye on the brunet, he also _really_ wanted to feel that smaller and warm body against his own again.

The only trouble was the insomniac that he was trying to fall asleep with. The brunet was upset over a few comments President Loire had made. They weren't able to catch the actual broadcasting of the conference, but statements were released. A few of those statements were about the well being of Squall Leonhart. Apparently, Laguna had taken on the task of informing the public that the young Commander was fine.

And, as an added ending to the day, Squall's private meeting with the longhaired President hadn't gone so well. The former Galbadian soldier had come out with watery green eyes and even Squall's cold façade seemed broken with traces of sadness.

Squall had refused to speak about any of it, and Laguna left with a lingering hug to his son.

Now, as Squall settled against Seifer's chest, the blonde raised a hand and began to stroke the brunet's soft hair. There was an almost conditioned reaction to the gentle stroking. The tenseness that had set those lithe limbs on edge left. As Squall relaxed against him completely, he ran his fingers deeper, massaging the scalp.

As much as Squall wanted to protest Seifer's condescending manner, he couldn't find enough willpower. Aside from relaxing, it was almost euphoric. Other than the gruff mussing of his hair, which only Seifer had done since the knight's return, he had never had anyone play with his hair, much less stroke it. Everything that happened between them was addicting, since he felt himself drifting and relishing the blonde's touch. He could definitely get used to such treatment.

All of Squall's restless and consuming thoughts seemed to fade to the back of his mind. Gone was his concern over his father. Gone was his anger over the statements of health released without permission. He was even able to forget that Irvine and Rui were not back and that they had an under the tables mission to deal with.

The last fleeting thoughts that swam through the Commander's mind were of the surreal relationship between himself and his childhood rival. Still far from understanding, he thought of how deep he was falling into it all. It was all so enticing. His body craved it and his mind could come up with no reasons not to give in.

Lying there in the arms of his former rival, Squall thought that he might begin to enjoy being held and having a warm body nearby during the vulnerable time of sleep.

There was brief moment where he felt himself slip under the shroud of slumber, but his stubborn mind pulled him back. It would be giving Seifer too much credit to fall asleep not five minutes after the blonde's attempts to lull him.

Squall listened to the steady rhythm of Seifer's heart. Schooling his expressions, he observed the increased beating when he raised a hand to clutch at the controlling man's shirt. Grazing over a nipple, he smirked at the faltered stroking of his hair.

With a most uncharacteristic playful smirk, Squall raised himself up. Draping a leg on the other side of the blonde's hips, he slid into place. Not grinding down, but leaving enough pressure to impress his intentions, Squall leaned closer to press his lips against Seifer's.

The blonde's reluctance was apparent, but the refusal was momentary. From gentle and light, the brunet drew Seifer's raw need out. It was to Seifer's initial frustration that he had no leverage, and therefore couldn't delve as deeply as he would have if he'd been pinning the brunet beneath him. However, when the sweet, wet heat of Squall's mouth began to take full effect, he forced himself to draw the kiss to an end.

"Squall," Seifer breathed out, swallowing his lust. "I won't take you tonight," he stated with longing regret. As much as he wanted Squall, he was truly concerned about hurting the former virgin, not to mention a small part of him questioned what the brunet wanted out of their relationship. Was it all about sex and uncontrolled lust for one another?

Furrowing his brows, Squall sat back. Defensively, he bit out, "I never said I wanted to be _taken_." His distain for the terms the blonde had used was obvious.

With a roll of jade eyes, Seifer clapped a hand to the brunet's leather clad ass. For comfort's sake, Squall had removed the many belts. To make a point, Seifer swiftly snaked a hand past the loose waistband. Having memorized the feel of the smooth skin and curves of the lithe and toned body, Seifer pressed against the Commander's tight entrance.

It was Squall's defeat when he instinctively arched back against the hand. Before Seifer could penetrate him, the blonde retracted the hand. Dismayed and angered, Squall rolled off the knight and curled up near the edge of the mattress.

Clenching his jaw, Seifer reacted swiftly. Such a misunderstanding could not be left outstanding. Reaching over, he hooked a strong arm around the younger man's stomach and dragged him close. Roughly holding the brunet against him.

Before Squall could protest, Seifer spoke husky words into the sulking brunet's ear. "Hyne, Squall, I want to fuck you so badly. I want to take you, probably more than is natural." Pausing a moment, he tried to vocalize the way his body felt and the exact feelings he had for the introverted, socially inept Commander. "This need I have can only hurt you if I act on it. You have to rest. It was your first time today. I can't do any more so soon. And, you can't hide how much pain you were in from it, not from me."

"Cocky bastard," Squall mumbled, refusing to be complacent in the knight's hold. It was a harsh realization that his body was craving to be filled and that such a need could be drawn out of him without any control on his part.

Since it took rough actions to reach the Commander, Seifer gripped the delicate chin of the moody man and turned that pretty face towards himself. Roughly kissing those soft red lips, he worked with fervor to loosen the brunet up. While not completely relaxed, Squall was certainly more complacent with a slack mouth inviting him inside and a slick tongue working against his own.

Working the kiss down, Seifer pulled out and placed a few soft kisses against those sweet lips. "When we've caught this stalking bastard, I'm going to screw you senseless every chance I get," Seifer stated as though the topic was no more unusual than making dinner plans.

"If I let you," Squall said sternly. The arrogant knight always seemed to be taking liberties. No one would dare assume to make Squall do anything, yet the blonde seemed intent on getting everything from him.

"If you let me," Seifer added with a wolfish grin.

Pulling the brunet to him in the same manner he had before, he resumed running his fingers through the silky chocolate colored strands.

Regardless of angry feelings or unacceptable realizations, Squall was drifting off yet again. He vaguely recalled hearing the blonde mutter, "Stubborn lion" After that, it was a dreamless sleep.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Dishonest Tricks

It was warm and comfortable. In between the two planes of conscious state, Squall curled closer to the source of warmth and let the spicy sweet scent that filled the air wash over him.

Seifer's breath hitched when the brunet nuzzled against his neck. The heated air against his skin sent shivers through his body. The sleeping form was unconsciously curling against him. All other times, even when he had held that lithe form against himself, Squall had shifted away and remained unresponsive to his gentle touch.

Not wanting to shatter the moment, Seifer carefully tightened his hold. It was like wanting to pet a small kitten, but fearing that the fragile creature would break. Irresistible, enticing, and alluring, the brunet was demanding of his attention.

There had already been so much wasted time. Now that he knew what he wanted and had it, he couldn't get enough. Being with Squall was intoxicating, not to mention confusing and often infuriating.

Prior to the war, before he'd left, the tiniest tendencies of the brunet would set him off. Mostly, it was his rival's ability to ignore him. It was when Squall acted as though they hadn't been with each other from a young age, when the pale boy could just look passed him as though he were no one special or important.

Perhaps that was why he wasn't constantly picking fights now that he was back.

'No,' Seifer concluded. He was still bickering with the Commander, only he refrained from physically engaging in battle since the younger boy was not in top shape. Or perhaps, it was because he found a substitute activity that was far more enjoyable.

"Seifer," Squall breathed out, lips brushing against the tanned skin of the knight's neck.

Suppressing a groan, Seifer leaned his head back in response to the brunet's sleeping mumble. He couldn't be certain whether or not the sleeping kitten had woken or done the act unconsciously. At length, he found his answer when those soft lips pressed to his neck in an unmistakable kiss.

It was perhaps more of a turn on that the lithe man against him was still half asleep, or at least under the clouded fog enough to not know what he was doing with any precise clarity. So his rival, his worthy adversary, and now his secret minx, was displaying unguarded affection instinctively.

His fingers trailed up and down in soothing motions across the white cotton shirt that didn't feel nearly as good to the touch as the smooth skin of Squall's back.

Seifer's hands stilled when he felt the brunet's lips part and hot tongue trail over his pulse.

"Did I wake you up?" Seifer asked, slightly unhinged and not thinking of what words he should be stringing together.

Squall gave no vocal reply, but continued to suck on the beating pulse. From the rhythm, he could tell that Seifer was reacting quite a bit, regardless of the blonde's composed manner. Having constantly vied for control, it was encouraging to know he had such an impact on Seifer. Whether or not the last few days already stood as a testament to that didn't make proving it all over again any less enjoyable.

Squall had never even imagined trying to bring forth the desires of another person. So, to feel the ex-knight's heart racing while he suckled on the man's neck was arousing. There was a spicy scent to Seifer's skin, which was most likely aftershave, but it was pleasant enough to keep him in place if only to breathe it in.

Not trusting himself, Seifer kept his hold on Squall's body. The smaller man's arms were pressed immobile against his chest. If those curious little hands began to touch him, he wasn't confident that he could stop himself from taking the brunet right then.

When he felt Squall shift to move higher, he squeezed more tightly. "There's still a couple hours of sleep you can catch," he half hissed when the pinned brunet opted to nip at him.

"I can think of better things to do than sleep," Squall said, raising his leg so that his knee brushed along Seifer's crotch. It was almost amusing to watch the blonde come undone and completely gratifying to know he was the cause of it.

Gritting his teeth, Seifer fought a losing battle of refusing the temptation presented to him. Of their own accord, his hands slid beneath the thin white shirt and trailed over supple flesh. It was impossible to refuse Squall, at least not again.

As the ex-knight's hold loosened ever so slightly, Squall took advantage of his mobility and shifted higher along the lean torso. His lips brushed over a tanned jaw line, feeling the near invisible stubble. The hands beneath his shirt left small trills of pleasure in their wake.

For Squall, it was a previously ludicrous notion to want to be with someone so badly. Now however, his ever growing and never ceasing desires were proof that anything could change, people could change. It was frightening and alarming, but he was too contented to care.

Before the brunet could continue the gentle nipping of foreplay, Seifer lost his patience to feel those lips with his own. Turning his head abruptly, he captured the soft mouth and claimed it as he'd done each time before.

Gentle turned into ruthlessly passionate, never able to delve quite deep enough. Swallowing each other's moans, their hands roamed about one another, trying to memorize each curve and slope of muscle by touch alone.

The clothing was an issue, but nothing that couldn't be taken care of.

Wanting leverage, Seifer turned their positions about. Breaking away for a moment, he stared down at the slick lipped, heavy lidded brunet beneath him. Lustful blue eyes met his, showing contentment and longing.

It occurred to Seifer at that moment that he was most likely in love. Blindly falling deeper with each kiss, every touch and caress. 'Most likely in love,' his mind considered. It was more than probable, it was certain. Love had no rhyme or reason, which was exactly how he had been going about this sudden desire to be with his rival.

Claiming Squall's lips again, he relished the experience. Beyond soft lips was a silky wet heat, which he explored with his tongue. 'Love,' his mind echoed again. 'Hyne, how he loved this mouth, these lips, the soft moans and pants. The way Squall cried his name out in ecstasy.'

Driving deeper, Seifer elicited a moan from the brunet as his hands brushed over hardened nipples.

Abruptly, as a sudden realization dawned on the blonde, Seifer pulled back. Staring down bewildered, his green eyes searched the bright blue ones of the Commander's.

Could it be true? He was in _love _with Squall? His mind couldn't think fast enough. From one point to the next, he jumped. Did he love the brunet or was he in love, did it make a difference? Since when was love ever a factor?

Before Squall could question the suddenly wide-eyed look of shock that Seifer held, there was a loud pounding on their door.

Both boys' heads snapped to attention, staring across the room.

Seifer hardly had time to remove himself from atop Squall, when the door swung open. With the brunet's lips swollen and shirt riding up a lean torso, there was no second-guessing what they'd been up to. It didn't help that the sheets and blankets were messed with both of them sharing a single bed.

The tall form of Irvine filled the doorway. Even in the darkness, the shocked expression was made out clear enough. Squall waited for an apprehensive moment, knowing exactly what connections were being made.

Violet eyes widened in shock. The first glimpse he'd caught had been of the larger knight rolling off of the Commander. To his shock, the brunet was neither restrained nor red in the face from shouting in protest. The bare midriff and dissipating daze of lust were not to be confused with any desperate or excusing explanation his mind could come up with.

The gunman clenched his jaw and swiftly shut the door behind himself. Stalking forward, his boots thudded loudly in the silence of the room. It didn't matter that he already had a fair amount of solidly founded suspicions or that it was more than apparent that Squall had not been forced. All Irvine saw was his leader, who he had looked up to since he'd been enlisted at Balamb Garden, spread back on the bed with mussed hair and plump lips.

Angered, Irvine finished his strides to the bed, meeting the taller form of the horny blonde. With a white knuckled fist, Irvine swung at the cocky knight, hissing out, "Fucking bastard."

"Irvine!" Squall shouted, scrambling to sit up.

Though Seifer could have dodged, he let the auburn haired sharpshooter land the first hit. With the solid smacking sound of the cowboy's fist against his jaw, his head and shoulder dropped toward the right. There was a surprising amount of strength behind the punch, but nothing more than he could handle. In fact, he'd felt harder impacts from some of Squall's more seething glares.

One hit was his limit of tolerated misbehavior, as Seifer caught the next flying fist. Twisting the fist sharply, he swiftly stepped to the side and harshly maneuvered the angry gunman to lay face first against the mattress. Holding one arm bent behind the gunman's back, he applied enough pressure to keep the jealous cowboy pinned.

With a jerking struggle, Irvine tried to free himself, but failed. After a few unintelligible curses, he relented.

"Seifer," Squall reprimanded, "What did you do?"

Green eyes blinked for a moment. Was the brunet serious?

Squall knew that Irvine wouldn't have barged in unless a pressing matter warranted such actions. He also knew that the level headed sharpshooter would not start throwing punches unless their was just cause. Seifer tended to piss people off, usually on purpose, and regardless of Irvine's initial acceptance of the ex-knight's return, he had sensed some hostility from the gunman towards the blonde. So, that left the question of what Seifer had managed to do that Irvine was in the room in a fit of rage over.

Not willing to reiterate, Squall waited with a questioning glare.

Narrowing his eyes, Seifer eased up on his hold of the outmatched cowboy. The mislead gunman had no chance against him, and yet the man had tried with so much blinded passion. He would have rooted for Kinneas if he hadn't been the target of anger and if Squall hadn't been the source of jealous possessiveness.

With disbelief, it took Seifer a moment to truly comprehend the naïve nature of his little lion. Was it possible for a single person to be so damn attractive and oblivious to the fact at the same time? Squall still had no clue why violet eyes followed the soft sway of his hips or why the gunman had been so disturbed the other night outside the apartment.

Running an unoccupied hand through his hair, Seifer kept his gaze trained on the brunet while answering. "I fucked you, that's what I've done," he stated with a smirk.

With the less forceful hold, Irvine was able to raise his head off the bed. "Let me go," he growled out.

"Let him go," Squall ordered, still not understanding what Seifer meant, but knowing that he didn't want Irvine being detained for any reason.

With a clenched jaw, Seifer complied. Crossing his arms, he stood back and glared down.

"Irvine," Squall began, "What is it?"

Roughly pulling away from the bed, Irvine straightened, looking from one face to the other. Squall with that unknowing air of innocence, which was actually annoying for its obliviousness. But, he couldn't stay mad, not at Squall. Then there was Seifer, with that arrogant smirk in place. The blonde knew exactly what was going on and actually seemed to be enjoying it all.

Irvine stared into green eyes, reading them and becoming angrier each moment. Not looking away, he requested, "Squall, I need to talk to you alone." The narrowing glare and flash of worry that contorted the knight's face gave him a good deal of satisfaction.

"No," Seifer stated flatly.

Quirking a brow, Irvine regarded the blonde with a small smile of his own. Turning to glance at Squall, who was sitting still on the bed, he waited patiently.

"Downstairs," Squall answered, shifted off the bed to stand up.

Seifer stared in disbelief at the brunet. "Squall," he hissed out, unable to completely mask the alarm he felt. He was the one who needed time alone with the Commander, not Cowboy. There was a whirlwind of unfinished questions in his head, and he couldn't begin to sort through them all with the threatening presence of the gunman.

It was a struggle, which involved a few more angry punches that never managed to hit the target on account of the swift intervention of a frustrated brunet.

With only one light on in the tavern like bar area, Seifer sat on the edge of his seat. Sitting in a wooden chair, he was turned away from the table. His arms were crossed and his left foot was tapping impatiently. Any wrong movement and he'd be across the room faster than he could draw his blade.

The forefront of Squall's emotions was curiosity. Having consoled the man who was taking being his protector more seriously than he thought the blonde could ever take anything, he managed to convince Irvine that there would be no meeting the terms of a private conversation. The gunman had to settle for talking to Squall with Seifer a few tables away.

Now, Squall wanted to know what caused the confrontation and where Irvine had followed Rui. Though curious, he was far from showing it. Squall sat back patiently, waiting for Irvine to speak.

"How long?" Irvine asked heavily, as though questioning a doctor for the length of his life.

Confused, Squall furrowed his brows in thought. Leaning back in the chair, he crossed his arms. Without his coat on the room felt chilly, there was also likely to be less heat with the bar being closed. At length, Squall pieced together what the gunman was talking about. "I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible. I'm sure you've figured out that we're here to deal with the person who's been tracking me."

With a humorless chuckle, Irvine shook his head. "I meant, how long have you and Seifer Almasy been screwing each other behind all our backs?"

There was a short list of people who had ever dared to pry or ask extremely personal questions about Squall's social life. Irvine had never been one of them, so it took Squall by surprise when the auburn haired man sat there with serious eyes and asked such a question.

Irvine knew that Squall was not likely to speak openly about any of it, not even to a childhood friend such as himself. So, he decided to draw the answers out with a bit of antagonizing accusation. "Is that why Matron always punished you two? Were you caught playing with each other?" There were few innuendos that could be pulled off with his practiced inflection of words and hinting raise of eyebrows.

For a brief moment, Squall was too shocked to even process what Irvine was accusing him of. However, once his mind snapped to attention, he felt a surge of anger. Was this how everyone was going to react? Would everyone assume that what he and Seifer had started back to when they were still kids? That was just wrong, they were four years old when they'd first met and began to clash heads.

It was another moment before Squall saw past his initial anger and realized that Irvine was just upset and spouting off words that weren't thought out first. With a sigh, he turned his focus to a less private affair. "When did you get back?"

"Squall, how long have you two been together?"

"I'm not going to discuss this with you," he replied, wary of the rising feel of embarrassment over being caught in bed with Seifer.

"You can't hide it, others will find out. I can't believe that I didn't notice any of it before now." In truth, Irvine had already been certain about it all, but only now had the means for questioning the Commander.

"Irvine," Squall interjected, "I won't discuss this," he affirmed sternly.

Stubbornly, the gunman leaned forward and stared intently into the brunet's gray-blue eyes. "How long?"

For the sake of not developing a headache, Squall bit his lip before answering. He spoke tersely, "Since he returned."

"Never before?"

"How is this your business?" Squall asked incredulously, hating the faint blush that crept to his cheeks.

"Squall, if you just needed sex, then I would have been there for you," Irvine said in all seriousness.

Gray-blue eyes widened in shock and pale cheeks darkened with horror. Squall was positive he'd heard wrong.

Perceptively, Irvine questioned, "It is _just _sex, right?"

"I think you have me confused with someone willing to elaborate on such matters. I won't repeat myself again, drop it," Squall bit out with defensive anger. His mind couldn't rest for a second before another complicated problem arose. If he hadn't heard wrong, then Irvine had just suggested having sex with him as opposed to Seifer.

There was no warning other than the shattering of glass and the bursting of the heavy framed door. Rolling chinks sounded as small objects skidded across the planked flooring.

Seifer was out of his seat and at Squall's side before smoke began to fill the room. Roughly grabbing the brunet, who was already standing with Lionheart drawn, Seifer pulled Squall with him. Towards the bar, Seifer directed the smaller fighter with force, feeling the futile protests of the stubborn boy.

The smoke dispersed quickly, filling the air and blinding everyone within range.

Unable to see, Squall sheathed Lionheart and felt his way along the guiding counter. Going against his better judgment, he shouted out orders for the sharpshooter, "Irvine, get to the others. Meet at the rendezvous point. Seifer and I will take care of this."

"Squall?" Irvine called out, unable to pinpoint the location of the brunet's voice.

"Move Kinneas!" Squall ordered back harshly, knowing there wasn't time to discuss anything.

Covering his mouth, Squall began to couch violently. Aside from watery eyes that stung from the blinding gas, the substance burned his lungs. Nearby, he could hear Seifer swear before falling into a similar fit. Strong arms held onto him as they moved further into the kitchen and towards the back entrance.

"Seifer," Squall gasped out, feeling his limbs grow heavy.

"Hey!" the blonde shouted, shaking Squall roughly, "Stay awake Leonhart!"

"I'm fine, keep going," Squall replied, stubbornly striding on. With his eyes closed, it was a challenge to find a quick path. He'd only been in the kitchen the one time earlier that day. As the air grew cleaner the further away they traveled, he was able to breath better.

The locked door burst open with a swift kick. Seifer kept one hand in contact with the brunet at all times, stumbling into the back alley. With tearful eyes, he blinked and tried to focus on the world around him. His legs felt weighted and it was becoming a real battle to walk.

Eventually, they wound up resting against the cold and damp bricks of the building across from The Harold.

As Squall's body slumped forward, he fumbled to pull the brunet against himself and dial the right set of numbers on the phone. As the phone clattered to the ground, Seifer continued to stare at his empty hand for a few moments after. Once it registered that he'd dropped the phone, he attempted to retrieve it.

Seifer never managed to pick the small device back up, as his world suddenly went dark. That last thing his brain was able to process before slipping into unconsciousness was the absence of Squall's weight against his chest.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

Sedating a Lion

Not getting enough sleep could make a person exhausted and tired, but sleeping for too long could make a person feel just as tired.

The lethargic veil that wouldn't lift, kept Squall from properly waking up. There were brief moments where he'd manage to glimpse beyond his heavy lids, but only long enough to see a small portion of the room he was in. Shortly after, his body would go still and his mind would drift again.

It was frustrating. With no sense of time or place, Squall's mind was quicker to respond than his body, but not by much. The trouble was, he couldn't piece anything together before fall unconscious again.

After experiencing this several times, he was certain that some drug must be involved, but he'd blackout sooner than he could wager a guess, only to come to again, reach the same conclusion, and promptly fall back to sleep.

At one point, his brain was able to retain some semblance of awareness upon waking up. So, while he struggled to stay conscious, as he'd been doing for some time already, his mind told him to find the source of his troubles. Heavy and clumsy limbs fumbled about. Keeping his eyes open was too demanding, so his hands searched blindly.

As he felt himself slipping back under, his right hand grasped a thin rubbery tube that lead to his left forearm. With as much strength as he could muster, he tore the tube away. To his fleeting pleasure, there was a small sting of pain as a needle was pulled out.

Squall's eyelids squeezed together and a small groan escaped his mouth. The soft petting to his hair made him sigh with relief. It had been years since he'd last had a dream, but with everything changing so rapidly, he wasn't surprised.

No longer fighting against the hazy fog, Squall relaxed into the coaxing hand.

His better judgment caught up with him though, as he tried to recall what his fragmented dream had been. There weren't enough solid memories to put together, his mind hadn't retained any of it.

Searching his mind for memories brought an alarming realizing, one that he would have noticed straight away if his synapses weren't sluggish. He couldn't find Shiva. She was with him, but he couldn't reach her.

"Seifer," he called out, his eyes fluttering open. The room was not one he recognized.

The ceiling held a large skylight that ran back beyond where he could see without moving his head. Bright light poured into the room, casting pinkish orange hews on the off white walls. A spacious area that was sparse of personal touches by the owner. No pictures aligning the walls, no items atop the dark cherry wood dresser.

Squall could feel the sunlight shining in on himself. The wall behind him must have been one large window, running up to the ceiling. It was a pleasant light, but dusk like colors lead him to believe that an entire day had passed without his recollection.

A shifting pressure in the mattress nearby startled him. He remembered that someone had been stroking his hair, and that Seifer hadn't spoken in response to his call. Gently his fingers smoothed over the soft cover of the bedding he rested atop of. White and soft, the material was airy, perhaps down. Blinking, Squall regarded his hands that touched the blanket.

Gray-blue eyes snapped to attention, his mind finally beginning to shake off the blockade of slowed mental processing. Jerking away, Squall felt tight metal cuffs dig into his wrists. Straining to pull his hands free he felt the cuffs cut into his skin. His hands were bound together in linked cuffs that were anchored with a leash-like chain to the headboard.

He gave up trying to break the chain, the links were too thick. With cautious anger, he shifted to sit up. Glaring at the other form occupying the bed he was in, Squall waited for some explanation or revealing clue.

Sitting on the other end of the wide bed was a man he did not recognize. A broad form similar in comparison to Seifer's, the man sat leisurely over the edge, with a black dress shirt and slacks. There was a black tie draped around the man's neck. The stranger's sleeves were rolled up and the top most buttons of his shirt undone, revealing pale skin and what appeared to be one end of a nasty scar.

Dark eyes that remained near black even in the bright lighting, held his gaze. Not blinking, Squall tried to place the face he saw. A long narrow nose, thin lips, and angular jaw line.

Everything about the man held a dark overtone. From the elegantly combed hair that was as dark as the black clothing. It was a grim feeling, as though the man belonged at a funeral.

Those eyes that didn't waver, but stared steadily into his own sent an unsettling shiver down his back.

Squall was taken by surprise when the man suddenly moved. His reflexes were terribly delayed, which was the only reason he was unable to dodge. A harsh slap stung his cheek.

Turning his head to lessen the blow, he stared with unmasked anger towards the stranger. With a face he didn't recognize, in an unfamiliar room, chained to a bed, Squall was far from grasping any of it.

Overstepping the stubborn nature that he was prone to having, Squall decided he'd need to handle this like a soldier and not the defiant fighter. "Who are you?" he asked, knowing that he couldn't just sit there and wait for the stranger to speak first.

Standing up, the man walked out of reach of Squall's limited area of free movement. "You dare speak another man's name in my presence?"

"Who are you?" Squall reiterated.

"My dear sweet boy, I'm hurt that you don't know me." The man's voice was coaxing and smooth, as though he hadn't just hit Squall.

Holding his bound hands to his chest, Squall glanced around the room. He wondered if he might be able to break or unhinge the chain. It was a ridiculous notion, however, considering the amount of strength that would require, and his unnatural lack of power at the moment. His responses were dulled and his muscles felt weak. The demeaning leash that he was the captive of was bolted to a support beam running as a divider along window.

Outside he could see the clear expanse of the dusk sky. The buildings along the horizon assured him that he was still in Dollet. There were few buildings that stood so high as he must have been. The top floor judging from the skylight, and well above all other skyscrapers in sight.

Lazily blinking, Squall felt himself swaying to the side. Straightening back up, he shifted to find his balance.

With the sneaking suspicion that he was still drugged, Squall shook his head as if to rid himself of the impairing effects. "What is this?" he questioned, jingling the chain that kept him from leaving the bed.

Thin lips smiled at him. Stepping closer, the man held his gaze. "My pet, you have much training to go through."

Furrowing his brows, Squall was unable to make any conclusions. So little information and so many contradicting elements. The man looked well dressed and didn't have the shifting eyes of the usual criminals, and yet there was clearly something not quite right.

Clenching his jaw, Squall skipped through the questions he would have asked and demanded for release. "Let me go," he ordered.

Either the man was extremely fast or the drugs were far from wearing off, because Squall felt the bruising pain of a hard backhanded slap before he had any time to react. Having lost his balance, Squall sprawled against the soft bed. The coppery tang of blood met his tongue, his lip was split. Furiously turning to face the assailant, Squall glared harshly.

It was regretful that the man would be knocked flat on his unhinged ass if Squall hadn't been doped up so liberally.

A pleased expression contorted the man's face, as he stared down at the brunet. "You are beautiful," he whispered longingly.

"Are you Epson?" Squall asked, biting back the urge to thrash against his restraints and pummel the man. With Lionheart gone and some for of Silence on him, he was no more than a common prisoner to this man's whims. His only hope was that equilibrium returned to his system as the drug ran its course.

Tutting, the man wagged a finger in front of Squall's face. "Now, now. That's not my real name, and you know it."

Cursing mentally, Squall thought back to Fenrir's death. The Reaper's Angel was definitely the assassin. "The Reaper?" Squall ventured.

"You're getting there," the man said, reaching out and drawing along the brunet's cheek with his index finger.

Turning away from the inappropriate touch, which caused Squall to swallow in disgust, gray eyes stared at the bare wall across the room. There was nothing within his short range of freedom. The bed he was on was centered in the large room. Chained to the wall, there was no place for him to go. He doubt that his captor held any key, that would have been foolish.

He jerked his head further to the side when the man's touch persisted. "So you were behind the missile launch in Esthar," he stated, more for the benefit of voicing the facts than questioning.

At the movement he saw out of the corner of his eye, Squall rolled away. It wasn't necessarily helpful to have the freedom of his legs and most his body. Except for his hands held together, and the limited space he could venture in, he was not held down. However, his pathetically slow responses, that weren't getting any quicker no matter how urgently he tried to will his body, canceled out any benefit he might receive from sitting up or kicking out at the man.

He'd hardly managed to roll to his other side when rough hands grabbed him. An attempted kick was thwarted with the heavy weight of the bigger man's body. A bruising hand squeezed his neck, stilling the refusing turn his head tried to give. Growling in anger and bucking up to throw the man's weight, Squall struggled futilely. "Bastard," he cursed, "Get the fuck off me!"

The hand at his throat squeezed tighter, crushing his trachea in a very dangerous manner. Stubbornly, he stared into dark eyes that watched with glee. It wasn't long before he attempted to cough and breath. The convulsing manner in which his chest heaved with panic was infuriating. The more he struggled the more those eyes seemed to come alive. Gritting his teeth, Squall fought to control his body. It was a wasted effort to try and throw the man. Aside from his disadvantage of position and incapacitation, this guy was bigger and physically stronger. There was nothing he could do but glare defiantly into cold, dark eyes.

Eventually his vision grew dark, and with a final few curses that he couldn't vocalize, he slipped beneath the veil of unconsciousness once again.

With a painful smack, Seifer punched the side of the building. "Fuck!" he cursed, scaring off a mangy cat picking through a garbage can nearby.

Taking a few deep breaths, he paced along the alley while organizing his thoughts.

When he hadn't managed to calm or collect his thoughts, Seifer raked a hand through his hair and tugged on the ends in frustration.

A few feet away, lying on the damp ground where he'd woken up, was the phone he remembered dropping. Striding to the small device, he stooped to snatch it up. Clutching it tightly, he turned and fled the alleyway in a mad dash.

Whether or not he could form a plan or fit together clues and find Squall, he knew he had to meet up with the others before attempting anything.

Sprinting through the streets, Seifer took every shortcut he knew, cutting through vacant lots and even going through a couple hotel lobbies to avoid going around a particularly long block.

Dawn was just breaking, the morning rays shedding little light on the world he faced. He didn't have time to berate himself and wonder how he could have possibly let someone get a hold of the Commander.

He'd failed. Squall was taken from him. He hadn't anticipated the lengths this Epson asshole would go to. A dirty attack that held no honor should have been the first threat he was looking out for.

Where was Squall? Hyne, where was Squall? He needed to know, he needed to find the brunet. It was a frightening need, hell, it was a frightening discovery that he could have such a need.

More than just wanting, he felt lost and panicked. Not simply in the other room, the brunet he'd become so fond of had vanished from his sight. It was maddening to know that somewhere in this crowded city, the Commander was hidden.

Hyne only knew who Epson was and what the man would do. It was already rather clear what the sick fuck wanted.

Lengthening his strides, Seifer sprinted faster, his blonde hair pressed back as he moved swiftly through the streets. He'd spill the bastard's blood before the day ended. That was his solemn vow. He'd make every person behind this suffer, and he'd take back was stolen from him.

As he neared Ragnarok, his mind had found solace in the goal of revenge he'd set.

Of all the people in the world to be kidnapped, Leonhart would give the most struggle and trouble. However, he did not rely on Squall's abilities as a fighter, as a source of comfort. Judging from the smoke bomb that emitted a rather concentrated dose of some incapacitating inhalant, he'd say the pale beauty had little chance of being able to fight back.

Squall's head lolled to the side as his eyes opened. To his distress, he had woken too late to stop Epson from administering an injection. He watched as a small prick of blood formed at the tiny mark left from the needle's entry.

Blinking, he felt frustrated beyond his ability to handle it. He wanted so very much to fight, but his body wouldn't listen. It was a struggle just to keep his eyes open, not to mention turning on his side.

"Ahh," the darkly dressed man cooed in a deep voice. "My precious boy is awake."

Swallowing dryly, Squall recalled how his throat had been squeezed, it hurt to carry out the small action. Dark eyes were fixed on his neck. A steady hand reached out to touch him. To his self-loathing, he instinctively flinched away, betraying an ingrained fear. Sometimes the body overrode the mind, shying from pain before the brain could register it. Or, in his case, his body showed fear while his mind shouted curses and envisioned what he would be doing if he were at any less of a disadvantage.

Cringing in annoyance, Squall let his mind focus elsewhere for a relieving moment. Craning his head back as far as his sore neck would let him, he observed the sky outside. It was still daylight, but not for much longer. That meant he hadn't been unconscious for very long.

Cold fingers running along his neck snatched his attention back to the most pressing matter. The Reaper was Dollet's, and perhaps the world's, most infamous yakuza leader. With a face that mysteriously remained unknown and a nickname that far preceded him, The Reaper was wanted for countless murders and unseemly crimes.

The man's right hand minion, The Reaper's Angel, was known for her specific style of assassination. The shots to the heart and head were what suggested the involvement of the mob boss.

As Commander of Balamb Garden, the crimes of this man were not his business. The Governor had never hired them to take care of it, so it wasn't his problem. Until now anyway. Now, this man of influence and power, which could more than contend with his own, had taken some abhorrent interest in him.

It made no sense. What would a man like The Reaper want with him? The guy already had money and power, there was little else Squall had to offer. And, he hadn't interfered with the man in anyway.

An involuntary shudder wracked his body as those hands smoothed over his exposed neck. There was little hope to be placed in the fact that he had been kept alive. As far as he could tell, the man was deranged and not to be held to any textbook standards of a murderer or crime lord.

Oddly enough, he didn't _feel_ fear. His body might have reacted on instinct, but he held no fear. He was royally pissed, tolerating it all as much as he could, waiting for the moment to lash out. The problem was, his moment didn't seem to be coming, and he had his doubts that if an opportunity presented itself he'd be able to seize it in his sedated state.

His focus was pulled back again, when Epson gripped his jaw and looked down at him in displeasure.

"It's rude to ignore me," the man stated, loosening his hold a bit. "Your beautiful skin," he said sadly, kneeling on the bed and shifting to straddle Squall's limp form. Sitting heavily on slim thighs, he ran a hand over the darkening bruises on the pale, slender neck. Leaning over, he ran his tongue along the smooth skin.

Jerking away, Squall's head was held in place and he had no place to go, except to furrow deeper into the bed beneath him. The exhaling sigh of the man above him and the tongue that swiped across his neck caused him to feel an impending reality about the situation. Not wanting to know, but feeling more than compelled to find out, he ask, "What do you want? Why am I here?" His voice cracked, sounding terribly hoarse.

"Was it Caraway's child who gave you these marks?" Epson hissed out, sucking at the darkest marks on the brunet's alluring throat.

"Dammit, get the hell off," he croaked out, his voice gave out the louder he tried to speak. As expected, his demand earned him a blow to the face.

Immediately after, a pair of icy hands cupped his cheeks. "Don't make me hurt your pretty face."

Staring up into dark eyes, steely gray irises danced with fire. Clenching his jaw, Squall never yearned to feel the grip of Lionheart in his hand so badly. He could almost hear the luminescent blade sing as it sliced through the air and cleanly lobbed this man's head off.

Not caring about the consequences, Squall tried to use whatever leverage he could to push the crazed man around. "Ultimecia's knight gave me these marks when we fucked each other senseless." Squall's cheekbone throbbed as he finally pissed the man off enough to make him use a closed fist. He couldn't suppress the grin that pulled his lips upward.

"I see," Epson spoke solemnly.

Squall's small grin faded as an alarm started to go off in the back of his mind. Staring up, he saw a regretful gleam in those dark eyes. Perhaps the man had little tolerance for defiant tendencies, thus earning him a quick death. He'd rather his end come now than after some twisted, demeaning, and drawn out game.

It was a surprise, and perhaps even greater alarm, when the yakuza leader began to kiss him. It was not like a real kiss, but rather a painful mashing of lips. Gritting his teeth, he refrained from voicing his protests, lest he open his mouth.

The lustful comments of Seifer surfaced in his mind about how oblivious he was to his own attractive appearance. He hadn't thought anything of it, but now as he considered it, Epson's actions were set into a new perspective.

Pulling back, he was unable to move enough to break the contact. A hand grasped his jaw, fingers digging into his cheeks. Not relenting, he continued to hold his mouth tightly closed. Another hand fisted his lengthy hair, gripping it at the root and pulling fiercely.

Squall's head was forcefully jerked back, angled so his neck arched upwards. This was the action that caused him to give way. He tasted blood, his own, as he gave a violet jerk, trying again to break away from those lips. Failing, his jaw was wrenched open and gripped tightly so he couldn't efficiently close it again.

A wet tongue hastily entered him, sloppily running against his own and roving deep enough to make him gag.

The shortness of breath was affecting him, though he actually hoped that he might pass out. Futilely, his fingers clutched and attempted push the man atop him off, but it was no more effective than a tap on the shoulder would have been.

Too preoccupied to realize that the hand pulling his hair had moved, Squall was surprised to feel a hand groping along his side, moving lower. As the hand grappled with his pants, which were sadly missing the many belts, he gave off an instinctive whimper, as if in plea for anything but what was about to come.

With an unfair tradeoff, Epson ended the disturbing kiss and focused on undressing him instead.

"Cowardly prick!" he cried out as best he could between pants and limited vocal ability.

Collapsing limply, Squall didn't fall back, but his muscles lost all tension. He felt spent. It was too much of a struggle to keep up the resistance through the heavy claim the drugs had over him.

His white t-shirt was pulled up his torso and over his head by impatient hands. The shirt remained bunched over his hands, where the cuffs kept it from being removed completely.

Squall swallowed another whimper of pain as the psychotic bastard painfully tweaked his nipples. As the hands abandoned all pretense of forced foreplay, they pulled his pants down.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Squall gave a final shout before losing what strength he had left to fight with.

Epson sat back, admiring the lithe form exposed before him. The bright gray eyes remained defiant to the very end. There had been so set plan for breaking the beautiful man, but starting right away seemed as good an idea as any. "I've waited too long for this," he explained, "Don't worry, it's always painfully the first time, but you'll come to beg me for it."

Blinking, Squall watched as his captor rid him of his pants, disposing them somewhere on the floor. Something snapped inside of him. It was as though everything just faded out. His mind couldn't absorb the event that his eyes were watching. His body didn't feel the rough hand squeezing his inner thigh, or the first press of fingers against the entrance, a place that only Seifer had ever touched in such a manner.

Lamely, Squall turned his head to the side and closed his eyes. His moment of opportunity hadn't come yet, and he was too weakened to seize it even if it did present itself. So, he'd wait. Following the textbook procedure on torture, he let his mind wander, focusing on anything but what was being done to his body.

His gray eyes focused impassively on the sky beyond the window above him. It was darkening, the sun was nearly set. With a final glance back at the man wedged between his legs, he watched long enough to see Epson unzip those black slacks and release the darkened flesh of an erect penis.

Blinking again, Squall pushed the sight to the back of his mind and turned his focus to the sky once again. If he stared intently enough, he could see a faint star.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Too Close For Comfort

It was ironic how the very reason Irvine and Seifer were at each other's throats managed to bring them together.

"Tilmitt," Seifer's voice spoke with a commanding air, "Stay here and set up whatever little camp it is that lets you work. I want all information on that number."

"Do you honestly think that someone like this guy would have left a trail?" Selphie asked, half her attention on setting up all her equipment.

For a brief moment, violet eyes met jade green. Standing in the cabin of Ragnarok, Seifer cocked the pistol before holstering it beneath the folds of his long coat. "The bastard got impatient. He wanted to lead Squall to him, that means leaving breadcrumbs. I don't care if you only manage to find out the type of music he likes, I want every stone overturned."

Pulling a laptop into her lap, Selphie answered, "Okay"

"Kinneas," Seifer walked towards the cabin door, stopping partway to stand beside the cowboy. "I have no need for a gunman with slow reflexes."

Before the auburn haired sharpshooter had managed to reach the upstairs of The Harold, he'd fallen under the noxious fumes. Under the cover of the gas, he'd been exposed to its impairing effects longer. Selphie and the bar owner had to practically carry him to the rendezvous point.

Flexing his fist, Irvine regarded the blonde knight solemnly. "I'm more than ready," he replied, his other hand gripping Exeter tightly.

"Then let's go shoot us an angel." Seifer grinned with a dangerous gleam to his green eyes.

The two young men swept from the cabin with clanking boots and swishing coats. Between them they had their weapons of choice, Exeter and Hyperion, as well as a small arsenal of other trinkets that might come in handy. Having abided by the fundamentals of honorable fighting all their military careers, they were just as able to use other methods.

The first to break from the code of a fighter was the first to die, which meant they would hunt down and kill this man who had dared to kidnap the Commander.

Jeremiah Epson Larkner was the president of Pier View Shipping, an infamous shipping industry. One of the world's wealthiest men, Larkner was the second president of the company. The founder, his father, had passed the business down to him. At a young age, the new president had been taken under the wing of his father's advisors and learned the tricks of the trade.

The company, having been founded some fifty years ago, had its roots well placed within the heart of Dollet. What had become shady rumors early on, turned into sinister facts. Pier View Shipping was known for its connections with drug lords.

The police were powerless. Between the bribery and fear that Larkner, who was better known as The Reaper, instilled in judges and politicians, there was no convicting the man for any crime.

The foolhardy souls that managed to gather enough evidence and also managed to side step all the dirty traps set by well paid lawyers, never lived to see a day passed Larnker's acquittal.

He'd been successfully charged with, and found innocent of, ten different accounts of murder and twenty accounts of accessory to murder and torture. Smuggling, bribery, drug dealing, extortion, murder, and torture were just a few more highlighted aspects on the man's non-existent criminal record.

No law official could touch him, no judge or jury would convict him, no victim could fight him, and no politician would stand in his way. Not even the Governor had called in for reinforcements. Surely the band who had saved the world could have taken him down, but so great was the fear he created in the hearts of every official that they would turn the other cheek, lest he become their shadow and end their life.

Larkner was seemingly two different men at the same time. While a few determined detectives had pieced it all together and managed to keep the rumors alive about his aliases, not many knew about the link between Pier View Shipping's president and the leader of the yakuza group known as Hollow's Demons.

These were the facts that Selphie managed to extract from every single profile she could hack her way into. Seifer had been correct in the assumption that Epson, or rather Larkner, had left a trail for Squall to follow.

Deeper than the facts were the motivations of the man. The twisted reasoning behind the killer's actions, and his want for the Commander. Reasons that none of the band of fighters could know, but a couple could wager a vague guess.

In the past year, Larkner had found another passion, other than killing and relishing the expanding power he had over an entire city. His interest in the war had been minimal, since he didn't feel fear, he had little to worry about. Business had suffered slightly, but none so much that he couldn't carry on with the latest feud. There had been one last surviving group, an underground mafia gang, such as his own. There would always be other insignificant schoolyard gangs that ran around with colored bandanas, but they were childish idiots who knew nothing of what it truly meant to be a real yakuza clan. But, there had been a last remaining group, which he might consider a threat.

Shortly before the war, and during, his interest had lain with eradicating the vermin and driving his clutches deeper into Dollet. One day however, there had been a broadcast from Trabia. It was by sheer chance that he'd caught a glimpse of it. On that screen he'd caught sight of the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. Squall Leonhart, SeeD from Balamb Garden. With his interest piqued, his obsession quickly grew.

He'd researched everything and anything about the boy. Named Commander at seventeen, the young man had ended the war and become renowned all over the world. There were times he'd been angry that so many people could gaze at his little lion, but he'd already concocted a plan to make the boy his, so his jealousy was abated with the future prospect of sating his lust.

"Down, you fool!" Seifer yelled, yanking the sandy brown leather of Kinneas' coat.

Caught in the middle of standing up, Irvine hadn't gained the balance to counter the sudden pull backwards. At the same moment when he stumbled back to the floor, partly landing against the knight, a shot pierced the air.

"My hat," the gunman cried, catching the ruined headpiece as it fell from atop his auburn hair. Two clean bullet holes, the size of his pinky, had been punched straight through.

"Screw your hat, and take your shot," Seifer hissed out, pushing the gunman to the side and off his leg.

Mourning the loss of his hat, which was as dear to him as Exeter, Irvine snapped, "Take mine, when she has us in her sights and is ready to fire again? Please, tell me how and I will gladly put a bullet in her head."

"Well, if you had stayed down like I said, then we wouldn't be in this mess," Seifer countered, not having a plan of action and settling for the exchange of angry words.

"We've been sitting here for over an hour, while Squall is out there somewhere." Replacing his hat carefully while keeping below the window, Irvine add as an after thought, "He's probably gagged and bound, there'd be no other way to keep the Commander from fighting."

Gritting his teeth Seifer rolled his eyes at the gunman's display of worrisome feelings. Perhaps Kinneas didn't realize just what sort of dangers the little lion was in. "My guess is that the bastard used some drugs. It fits the profile, just look at the aphrodisiac in the box left outside the apartment, and the smoke bombs used in the bar." Turning his head to emphasize his point, Seifer continued, "Your dear Commander is probably being raped as we speak, so take the damn shot."

Amethyst eyes narrowed and glared fiercely. "Don't say that Almasy," Irvine hissed. While he knew the truth of it all, he was hoping beyond hope that nothing of the sort had happened to Squall.

"Cowboy," the ex-knight began, shifting to retrieve the target rifle propped against the wall, "If you're not shooting, then I am."

With a seething glare, Irvine swiftly grabbed the gun. The feel of the rifle was nothing like that of Exeter, and his hands longed for the familiar grip. In one swift movement, he stood up and turned around, shifting further away. The gun was in place before he'd even stopped moving, his eye searching through the magnifying lens to find his target.

As another well-placed bullet grazed his coat, missing only because he'd still been moving, he pulled the trigger.

In a moment of stilled silence, neither man spoke. The easy nature in which Irvine remained in front of the window was enough confirmation of a hit target for Seifer to shift into viewing range as well.

Inside the empty office room, where papers were scattered and chairs askew, Irvine and Seifer waited.

The room they were in had recently been filled, milling with office workers. Cubicles separated each worker's little space, though now the room was vacant. They had taken it upon themselves to empty it, taking only a few rounds of a semi automatic.

After speaking with a few of Rui's _friends_, they had managed to track down The Reaper's Angel. Unable to bypass the security of the assassin's location, they had set up camp in the building directly opposite.

The trouble they'd faced was not necessarily with the entire security set up of Pier View Shipping, but with the ruthless assassin that stood as guard for The Reaper. True to the woman's name, she acted as a right hand man and kept them from so much as moving around in the room freely. How she had managed to become alerted to their location was beyond them.

All that mattered was that she was dead now, and they could safely take down whatever remained in the form of security.

It was difficult to concentrate on the flickering star. Squall found that within the glow of dusk, it was too faint to remain visible the entire time. In fact, it was easier to see if he only saw it out of the corner of his eye.

Normally, he wouldn't have cared about something so trivial as fixing his sights on a random star in the darkening twilight sky. However, he'd subconsciously chosen it as a focusing point, something to keep his mind off the alarming appearance of the psychotic man's engorged penis.

It was a useful technique, used when being harmed or tortured, as a last resort when knowing he couldn't fight back. Focusing intently on anything but what was being done, and the pain would be eased, if only a little. The star wasn't helping, as his attention was suddenly drawn back at the first intrusion of Epson's finger.

Should he be grateful that the man was going to prepare him? 'No,' he concluded lamely, forcing his eyes back towards the sky above the clear glass of the ceiling. It was going to hurt like hell no matter how much preparation he was given.

He winced as the finger was pushed deeper inside of him, then roughly pulled out and thrust back in.

Biting his lip, Squall narrowed his eyes and continued to stare upward. A curse nearly escaped his lips as a second finger was added. Sharp pain shot through him, as those fingers were pushed in and out, with no hesitation over the resistance his entrance gave. There was no lube to ease the appendages' intrusion, nor was there consideration for the time it would take for his body to adjust and stretch.

The next finger added was the last straw for his attempt to remain impassive. There was only so much pain he could take without reacting. A coarse and stifled cry slipped passed his lips.

It would seem his reaction invoked something within the sadistic bastard before him.

Epson gave a groan as he stroked his prominent cock. Violently thrusting his fingers in and out of the brunet, he listened as the young man gave an almost whimper. It was like music to his ears. He couldn't wait any longer. The boy would heal eventually. He wanted to feel the lithe beauty squirm beneath him, writhing in pain, becoming his completely.

Fiercely gripping the brunet's smooth white thighs, Epson levied the boy's legs up, pressing them forward and exposing that sweet entrance for all his plundering glory.

Squall froze with apprehension. His chest was compressed as his legs were pressed against it. The merciless man gripped him, just behind the knees, with enough strength to bruise. Unable to find his focus, or really pull many coherent thoughts together at all, Squall squeezed his eyes shut and waited. As he felt the man's penis rub against him, he clenched his fists tightly, digging his nails into tender flesh.

It was then, with miraculous timing, that the sound of shattering glass reached his ears. His initial thought was that it was too good to be true, and he didn't open his eyes until his legs were released.

Barely cracking his lids enough to see that Epson was no longer before him, he took the opportunity to draw his legs together, a need that had been swelling the moment they were forced apart. Taking a deep breath, he again struggled against the weakness instilled in his bones. A weakness caused by his earlier efforts at escape and whatever he'd been injected with.

Pulling on the chain, Squall shifted higher on the bed, away from Epson. Finally glancing around the room, he remained stiff in disbelief. The insecurity that relief would bring kept him from letting the feeling wash over him. Instead, he watched the scene without emotion.

There were dark ropes, lines, coming from outside. Shattered glass from part of the window, just far enough away to have missed raining down on his exposed body, was scattered about, jagged shards forming an opening where the pane hadn't fallen away completely.

He felt the first prick of emotion as he realized that Seifer and Irvine were now inside the room. Embarrassment. Weak and pathetic, he'd fallen victim and been utterly helpless. Never had he experienced such a shameful moment, and now he had witnesses, who he'd have to face.

Obviously they'd dropped their lines down and made a rather forceful entrance. With some satisfaction he watched as Epson stood, bewildered, hastily tucking himself back inside the confines of his black pants.

There seemed a standstill of action, as the blonde knight glanced at him and then at Epson.

Swallowing sorely, Squall finally let relief wash over him. He could deal with shame. The embarrassment was decidedly better than being taken against his will.

Hoarsely, he spoke, "Mind lending me some clothes." Hardly modest, he didn't bother with hiding himself.

Violet eyes remained trained on Epson, but Irvine shrugged out of his coat quickly enough. When Irvine turned to face Squall, a faint blush crept to his cheeks. Tenderly, he draped the garment over the Commander's shoulders. Pulling it up and drawing it around the smaller form, he helped the pale man sit up further. The moment he looked into those gray eyes he knew something was amiss. "Squall?" he questioned tentatively.

With a lazy blink, Squall wavered slightly in the upright position, but managed to keep balance after a moment. His eyes flickered back to the gunman's.

"Are you," Irvine searched for the right words, "_on_ something?"

"Obviously," Squall whispered in confirmation. Swallowing dryly again, he decided to use his voice as little as possible, since it was scratchy enough without damaging it more. With an inebriated gesture, he rattled the cuffs and chain, pointing out that he was still bound.

Furrowing his brows, Squall mentally questioned why Seifer wasn't at his side. Not that he expected it, or that having Irvine wasn't good enough, but it seemed as though the knight might have a bit more of an inclination, whether as a job description or because of their recent _bonding. _

Upon observation of the blonde, Squall felt a tremor run down his spine. There was a heated fury in those green eyes that he'd never seen before. Seifer didn't even look his way, but glared fiercely at his former captor.

Epson stood straight, silently staring without a trace of fear. As Irvine broke the chain, with a well place shot, the man shouted, "He's mine!"

Seifer clenched his teeth, his jaw visibly flexing. Without tearing his eyes from the filthy bastard's face, he spoke vehemently, "Kinneas, take Squall,"

"Seifer," Irvine started calmly, "We should-"

Cutting the gunman off, Seifer bit out, "I have something to deal with right now, so take the Commander and watch over him 'til I get back." With a calm smile, which both unnerved the gunman and caused a bit of fear at the same time, Seifer added, "There are some things that those pretty blue eyes just shouldn't see."

Hesitating a moment longer, Irvine gathered Squall to him. The brunet protested feebly. He managed to carry the young man's weight a little too easily. Pulling a phone from the pocket of his brown trench coat, which was currently wrapped around Squall's form, he pressed a button on the side and said, "Drop a tray down, I've got the Commander."

"Leave him!" Epson shouted, taking a step forward.

Irvine cast a final glance behind, turning away before he could watch what punishment the knight had in mind. As the engine of Ragnarok sounded nearby, he knew Selphie had arrived. Shortly after a small platform was dropped down, held secure by four cables. Stepping carefully out of the window, he deftly managed to step onto the swaying structure.

Squall knew well enough not to squirm while hovering high in the air. But he felt inclined to protest. "We're not leaving without Seifer."

"I'm sure he won't be long, he's too impatient to draw it out any further," the gunman commented, shaking his head slightly.

For what that bastard deserved, Irvine would have only been able to shoot the man a few times before a finishing shot. It was better that Seifer take care of it, since the blonde seemed more capable of turning terribly vengeful and cruel.

Both he and Seifer had seen into the room from the rooftop before crashing in. Closing his eyes, he sighed with relief. They'd been far too late, but just in time.

Squall's eyes remained fixed on the large window that was steadily decreasing in size. The relief he'd let wash over him was suddenly gone. Now he felt no better than if he were still back in that room beneath Epson's forced hand. He wanted Seifer. Plain and simple, he wanted the blonde nearby again.

From ruffling his hair, to protectively holding onto him, Squall wanted to at least have the knight within his sight. Biting his lip and tasting the metallic tang, a surge of emotions rushed forth, threatening to seize hold. Thickly swallowing, Squall was baffled by the stinging his eyes gave. It was perhaps the rapid winds that enveloped him as they were drawn higher.

A weak shudder wracked his body. Too tired to fight mentally or physically, Squall conceded that his chest was aching suddenly with longing. Biting his lip harder, he almost wished for the surrendering darkness to shut his mind down, only so that time might pass unnoticed. Then, when he woke up again, Seifer would be there.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

Undeniable Need

The strong winds died down as Ragnarok's hull sealed shut. Stepping onto solid footing, Squall made a subtle point of shrugging out of Irvine's hold. His balance was precariously inebriated at best, but he was too stubborn to accept a steadying hand.

The cold metal of the hull's flooring was easily felt by his bare feet. Drawing the brown leather coat around his form more closely, Squall regarded the gunman beside him questioningly. Blinking his gray eyes, he had to attempt to focus twice before succeeding.

"It was just a day, right?" the pale boy asked.

'Just a day?' Irvine's mind scoffed. How could the Commanded act so collected and aloof even while doped up and battered? A day of forced confinement made an hour seem like an eternity, yet Squall acted as though a week could have gone by in the blink of an eye. "Yes," the gunman finally replied, keeping his thoughts to himself.

A faint and reassuring smile graced Squall's bowed lips. Giving a small nod, he turned towards the bathroom that occupied the first deck, only a few meters away.

"Squall?" Irvine called out, lowering his arms to his side so that they didn't reach out and attempt to help the brunet.

The slender form, hidden beneath the long garment that was too large, stopped. Pale feet took a couple shuffled steps to keep balance. "Do the others know?" Squall asked, his voice only a hoarse whisper.

Irvine strained to hear the cracked mumblings of the young man. Taking a moment to absorb what Squall was referring to, he answered, "Selphie and Rui are on the ship, but they didn't see anything. We didn't contact anyone back at Garden. It was a difficult situation since you're the one who makes those sort of decisions." In truth, the group had known that there was little anyone at Garden could do that they couldn't do themselves, and the fact that Squall would loathe the idea of any of this becoming public knowledge had determined their specific course of actions.

"Thank you," came the whispered reply, before the brunet half walked, half staggered to the bathroom.

Irvine watched as the frail form disappeared behind the closed door. It was fairly clear that Squall didn't want anyone else to know what he and Seifer had seen. Truthfully, he could relate to such wishes, but at the same time he had no idea how it might feel. All he knew was the wrath and anger he'd felt upon seeing Squall chained helplessly on the bed with that deranged fucker atop him.

Running a hand through his auburn hair, he freed it from the loose hold of the hair band. Exhaling audibly, Irvine closed his eyes for a brief minute. The whole day had been more nerve wracking than anything he'd ever felt. By noon, he'd been wishing for something as simple as assassinating Edea to take the place of the mayhem and worry involved with trying to find Squall.

What would have happened if they'd been too late?

Violet eyes widened suddenly. 'Were we too late?' he wondered frantically. There was no confirmation that they'd interrupted Larkner's first assault on Squall. Between the unhinged steps the brunet was taking and the hoarseness of the man's voice, there was no telling what had transgressed during the many hours in which Squall had been detained.

Had Seifer realized this? Was that why the knight had seemed so utterly consumed with bloodlust?

With such thoughts swirling around in his head, Irvine nearly decided to lower the lift again and join the blond in vengeful torture. Deciding against it, he walked up to the closed door, behind which the abused lion had retreated.

Rapping his knuckles against the cold steel, he spoke, "I'll find some clothes." When no response was given, except for the whooshing spray of water, he added a bit more loudly, so as to be heard over the running water, "I'm sure Seifer will be back soon."

Dejectedly, Irvine walked away. Colder than usual, Squall seemed to have become cut off from the outside world the moment they stepped off the lift, when the brunet refused his helping hand.

His concern mounted when he wondered whether it was simply Squall being his usual introverted self, or the textbook symptoms of assault victims. It was even more aggravating that without actually stating the obvious, the Commander had made the point that Seifer was the one he wanted nearby.

Absently tying his hair back into a ponytail, he set off in search of suitable clothes to replace his lent trench coat.

The lighting within the small bathroom was actually quite bright, shining down from the ceiling. It didn't matter though. Squall didn't feel any headache or sensitivity to it. It was just that in the bright light he could see the marks covering his body more clearly.

Having carelessly discarded Irvine's coat, he stood before a mirror. The reflective glass was secured above a sink, showing only from his navel upwards, unless he cared to move further back against the wall behind him.

The bathroom itself was roughly five by five feet, which included the sink, shower, and toilet. Small by Garden standards, but effective for its basic use.

Tentatively, he raised a hand to his throat. Ignoring the visible tremble his fingers gave, he brushed over the bruised skin. There were actual prints discernable, where Epson's hands had squeezed tightly.

Darting his tongue out, he tasted the metallic tang along the defined crack in his lip. It was slightly swollen, but would heal well enough if he refrained from smiling a whole lot. Mentally scoffing, he concluded that his lip would be the first thing to heal.

There were faint marks along his jaw, and cheekbone. Pressing lightly against the right side of his face, he winced slightly. There would be definite bruising there, and soon, judging by the faint hue of purple that was setting in.

There were scratches, nail marks, on his cheeks. Epson had forced his jaw open with more strength than he'd perceived.

A small smirk played across his lips, as he turned a bit. Along his left shoulder were teeth marks. Seifer's doing. A marking he found inexplicable pleasure in. It was the only mark from the blonde on his body that was distinguishable from Epson's bruising.

Running a hand through chocolate tresses, which were mussed and tangled, Squall sighed. He felt groggy and weak, as though walking through a dream. It was the weakness he disliked most of all. Pathetic and shameful were the only words he could think of to describe his condition, and maybe just a little bit sore as well.

A soft knocking sounded at the door. Gray-blue eyes snapped towards the entryway, an unguarded hopefulness shining within. At the sound of Irvine's voice, he turned away abruptly.

Yet another reason to feel pathetic. His years of conditioned calmness were thrown out the window after less than a week of being around Seifer. Now, his heart beat faster and his emotions ran high at the mere prospect of the blonde's presence.

'Ridiculous,' he concluded, turning the shower tap on, not listening to the gunman's words.

Stepping beneath the soothing warmth of the hot water, Squall mused in his solitude. It didn't make any sense. Why after so much effort making sure that he was no more than ten feet away, would Seifer just send him off without a second glance?

Not that he cared, he was just baffled…. and maybe a little hurt.

Growling in frustration, Squall propped himself against the shower wall. Hands out, he bent over slightly, directing the spray on his head. It was easier to stand this way, less weight on his legs and hands to keep him steady.

As his hair became soaked and hung low at an odd angle, curtaining his face, his eyes fixed on the swirling water flowing down the drain.

How had he managed to become so dependent? His chest felt heavy with what he could only describe as heartache.

What was this? Longing. Yearning. Wanting. Needing. Such feelings he couldn't remember ever having in such a way as he did now.

Why was it that the mere thought of Seifer being next to him, ruffling his hair, gave him some shred of relief? Why couldn't he find relief, even after escaping at the most crucial moment? Should he not be happy and overwhelmed with relief at Irvine and Seifer's opportune arrival?

'Dammit!' his mind raged, while he gave a sad punch to the wall.

Sinking to the bottom of the shower, Squall leaned fully against the wall, backing into the corner while the water continued to beat down.

Was it overconfidence? He'd defeated Ultimecia and assumed that something as trivial as a stalker was no threat. He should have anticipated it, seen it coming. No longer under the protection of his Garden, he'd been left wide open for a sneak attack.

Now, because of his utter failure, he sat limply in such a state that made him cringe with disgust. How far he'd fallen, to become a victim of some psychotic yakuza leader with a crush.

Swallowing thickly, he again fought down the unbecoming burning sensation in his eyes. There was perhaps another level he could fall down to, and that would happen if he started to cry.

His mind was too full, there were too many thoughts and feelings running rampant.

Again, he was yearning for the arrogant knight's confidant presence, if only to take his mind off of everything.

Drawing his legs up, Squall rested his head on his knees and hugged them while he tried to push all emotions back down.

After a few minutes, he cracked an eyelid, blinking against the water. His eyes trained on the tiny puncture marks on the crook of his elbow. Squeezing his eyes shut again, he willed himself to no longer be under the influence of any drugs.

Desperately, he sought Shiva. Her voice was nowhere to be found. There would be no solace in the Ice Queen's comforting world or words.

Gritting his teeth, his fought again against the uncontrolled tears.

"Fuck," he cursed obscenely, hating how his voice was not his own. His body was hurting from the filthy hands that had touched him without consent or restraint, and his mind was confused and tired from overwhelming emotions.

An involuntary shudder wracked his body. Wondering if it was perhaps an effect of withdrawal, he found it curious how his body suddenly felt cold even under the steaming shower.

Unfurling himself, he rubbed his face gruffly, instilling some wakefulness. Making to stand up, he kept his hands against the wall as a head rush passed. If he stayed in here any longer, the others might become suspicious. Besides, Seifer would be back soon, or so he hoped.

There was no sound reasoning behind any assumptions for the blond's expected arrival. Seifer might be gone all night, whilst he pined.

Shaking his head, he inhaled sharply. He would not behave so foolishly, pining was for animals and hopeless romantics.

The sudden pounding on the door was almost a dead give away with its forceful gesture. Squall froze, not wanting to get his hopes up, all the while berating himself. His hopes were already up, and as such, he proved that he was no better than an animal with his longing gaze to the door.

Breathing heavily, against the increased pressure in his chest, Squall ignored the pounding, forcing himself not to react rashly. He would not rush to the door and jump at the blond to fulfill the ludicrous craving for the knight's touch.

Apparently, it didn't matter what he did, as the door opened manually. Seifer's broad frame filled the doorway. With a slightly glistening brow and barely visible flush to tanned cheeks, Seifer seemed to have exerted himself in some manner.

With a schooled expression, Squall stared blankly at Seifer. Each second he stared was an act of defiance, to prove that he had not become consumed with any such feelings as longing.

Again, it did not matter that he remained in place, still standing within the shower.

With the flutter of the knight's dark coat, Squall found himself within Seifer's strong embrace. His feet hovered off the wet shower bottom as his naked form was held closely to the warmth of the blonde's body. The arm wrapped around his lower back allowed him to comfortably dangle, while another hand pressed against his wet hair.

Stunned for a moment, Squall first absorbed the fact that they were both standing beneath the water's spray, with Seifer fully dressed. However, as he inhaled the spicy scent of aftershave on a tanned neck, his mind let go. Breathing easily for the first time, Squall raised his arms and returned Seifer's hug.

No words were spoken, but everything they felt was expressed in actions.

After a minute or two, perhaps even more, Squall sighed in contentment, nuzzling against the ex-knight's neck. His hands clung to the coarse material of the dark trench coat, gripping it with need while pressing himself closer.

Seifer didn't notice anything other than Squall, having that pale and beautiful body in his arms again. His heart beat erratically. He tightened his hold, careful not to break the fragile looking man. Squall would not break, but he could never be too careful. He fisted sopping hair, several shades darker than usual. Nudging the nuzzling head back, he stared fixedly into blue eyes, which seemed to swirl with so many different emotions. He couldn't remember seeing those eyes so unguarded. Nor had he ever felt the brunet hold onto him with an equaled need for the simple contact.

Leaning his head forward, Seifer pressed his lips to Squall's forehead. One kiss was not enough, as more followed. All along the man's bruised face and dripping hair.

Neither wanted to break the silence, words didn't seem to be appropriate.

Eventually, Seifer ended his trail of gentle kisses, landing upon soft lips. The brunet moved for the first time in his hold. Craning a slender neck upwards, Squall met Seifer's kiss with a soft simper of contentment.

Irvine wasn't sure what to do or even think. Only a few minutes ago, Seifer had called for Selphie to drop a line. He'd been in the main cabin, biding his time so that Squall could finish up in the bathroom.

He'd found a set of clothes, just cotton flannels from the small closet in the lounge. In order to keep Squall's condition a secret, he did not have the clothes with him in front of Selphie or Rui.

It hadn't been quite the difficult task he imagined it would be, to keep Selphie and the kid from checking on the Commander. Having told the cheerful girl that they were still on a mission that wouldn't end until they'd reach Balamb Garden, she had immediately complied and remained at the helm of her ship.

Expecting Seifer to have returned by now, Irvine was curious why the blond hadn't shown up yet. The gunman's common sense set in only a few moments later than usual. Taking his leave, he'd gathered the clothes and made his way to the first floor.

The sound of running water and the sight of an open bathroom door were his first indications as to where the knight had chosen to go. Vestiges of jealousy sprung to life, no matter how much he tried to push them down with consideration to the gravity of recent events.

Nearing the open door, he was given the sight of the knight's broad back, clad in a wet coat. An obviously still nude Squall was withheld from his sight, except for the slender arms and hands that were hugging Seifer.

It was the realization that Squall was hugging the blond that kept him from barging in. As delicate fingers gripped the knight's coat, he was forced to see just how consensual and welcome, even desperate, the act was. Squall was clinging to Seifer.

He glimpsed the top of a dark mop of hair as it furrowed against Seifer's throat. Neither man seemed to care that the door was wide open or that the water was still spraying down.

When Seifer began to kiss the brunet's head, and Squall's knuckles turned white, as they held on tighter, Irvine snapped from his daze. Feeling far too much like an intruder, he could do nothing but swallow his jealousy and silently set the clothes in the doorway.

Irvine left the couple with mixed feelings. His attraction was supposedly fleeting, something to be waited out, or so he and Selphie had concluded. Regardless, he still felt pangs of anger and jealousy at the apparent relationship going on between _Squally _and the rivaling sorceress' knight.

It had been earlier that day when he'd confronted Squall about the relationship. If the Commander had wanted a fuck buddy, then he'd be more than willing. However, the display of raw need and affection were screaming that there was something far more serious going on than he'd initially thought. Was the pair involved in a serious relationship, were they lovers? Just how long had they been together?


	33. Chapter 33

**Warning: **NC-17, this chapter is basically one big lemon. I admittedly understand that it may be too mature for this site, however I will be editing at a later date. My reasons behind this are that this story was intended to help me improve lemon scenes, and meant to be posted on an adult fanfiction site. That site is experiencing some technical difficulties that won't be fixed until March, and for all my readers there, they can only read the chapters here. So be warned. I again state that this chapter can be skipped, so if you're too young but want to finish the story, them move on to chapter thirty-four.

Chapter Thirty-Three

If It's Not Broken, Don't Fix It

"Seifer," a soft voice whispered.

"I'm right here," Seifer responded, holding the lithe form in his arms more tightly and pressing his lips to the back of the brunet's head.

Rolling his eyes at the doting affection, Squall bowed his head, brushing a cheek against the blonde's arm that pillowed his neck and held him close. "I know you're there," he stated lamely. There was little need for the man's declaration when they were pressed against each other.

At Squall's words, Seifer realized that the young man was actually awake. For the better part of the night, the unsettled lion had been sleeping rather fitfully. The tossing about had been stayed by his hold, but every so often, plush lips would part ever so slightly and call out his name. Each time, there had been a questioning tone, as though the brunet was seeking confirmation of his presence, or alerting him that he was needed. Though, the most recent call had not been a question, he'd responded in the same manner as he'd been doing since they'd first lain down to sleep.

A ghost of a smirk crossed the knight's face. His concern over the brunet's odd behavior was waylaid by the fact that he held the man in his arms. There was little to worry over when he was certain that Squall was right there beside him, a solid body against his own. Leaning his head down further, he trailed his lips across the back of an exposed neck. Silky brown hair fell further down than he recalled before the war. Obviously, half a year was sufficient time for hair to grow, but it was only a little longer, barely perceptible considering he always mussed it up.

Sensing that Squall had something on his mind, Seifer spoke at length, though he was reluctant to end his actions against the soft skin, "What is it?"

Blue eyes blinked heavily as Squall wallowed in the simple sensation of lips ghosting the nape of his neck. "Tell me what happened," he requested.

Since they'd arrived back at Garden, there was little time for explanations. Considering the situation, his authority had been stripped. He couldn't order for details on the mission since it was unofficial and he had been the main target. Instead, he'd been ushered to the infirmary and placed in Dr. Kadowaki's care. With as much weary patience as someone of his particular conditioning could maintain, he'd complied well enough and refrained from asking too many questions.

Now, however, since he had woken up and found that sleep was eluding him, he asked the blond.

Seifer was more than reluctant in his answer. There were more than a few details that he would much prefer to be kept secret. Then again, there were a few details he'd like to know himself, such as the exact happenings during the hours of unsupervised captivity.

With a soft sigh of warm breath, which he happily noted caused a small tremor to run through the warm body he held, he began to recant the long day. "Both the name and the number Rui gave us were traceable. He was the president of Pier View Shipping, Jeremiah Epson Larkner. I'm sure you recognize the name now." Seifer paused at the tensing he felt within Squall's body. Obviously the brunet wanted to know more, but it probably wasn't the best idea to linger on the subject. "We went to a few of the brat's sources, they were helpful in locating that assassin, the angel girl. Kinneas took her out, and then we managed to find you."

"And Epson?" Squall asked, not sure why he felt the need to know.

"He's gone," Seifer replied immediately, squeezing the pale man tighter.

"What did you-" he began with a bit of apprehension, before he was abruptly cut off.

"The bastard got more than he deserved with a death that didn't involve days of torture," Seifer growled out, gripping the brunet a bit too tightly and causing the young man to wince.

Squall wasn't certain how to feel about Seifer's reaction from before. There had been such an unsettling rage in those green eyes while glaring at the man who'd been behind the tiring plot of obsession.

By the time Kadowaki had released him from the infirmary, the day's events had settled in completely. Squall's initial response to it all had been delayed by the scattered thoughts that overbore him during a moment of vulnerability. However, once he was calmed and again within the care of his _nanny_, he had a better ability to analyze it all. The blond's behavior had shown him a side of the man he'd never seen, and considering their unique relationship he'd seen most every side of the man.

Hearing the seething hatred in Seifer voice when he spoke of Epson was not something his ears were used to. Nor was he accustomed to seeing those eyes gleam with an unhinging lust for blood and pain.

Dwelling upon such thoughts again, Squall was compelled to confirm that the man behind him was the same childhood rival as always, the same man he'd given himself to. It was a bit of a struggle to turn himself about in Seifer's hold, considering the constricting nature in which those arms wrapped around him.

Once he faced the blonde, he gazed into those eyes, seeing the same old mischievous and gentle shine they usually carried.

Perhaps it had become a sensitive subject with the blond, considering the way Seifer seemed to change at the mere mention of _the incident_, as he so vaguely called it.

Upon forming this suspicion, Squall decided to drop the matter. His curiosity was minimum and he had patience when it came to such matters, so he could wait and ask another time, or maybe another person.

As if in confirmation of his mental decision, Squall leaned up and pressed his lips to Seifer's.

There was hesitance in the blond's response that made him pull back and stare questioningly. Before he could voice any questions, wondering if the man needed prompting, Seifer initiated a kiss of his own.

Seifer had refrained from returning the brunet's kiss on account of his concern over the pale Commander's condition. Physically, the boy was fine, the various scratches and bruises were easily mended with a simple Cure. Mentally, though, Seifer questioned whether the stubborn lion would be up for such intimate activities.

However, once he'd studied those calm blue eyes, laced with an almost affectionate desire, he'd remembered whom he was dealing with. Squall was not unversed or unpracticed in the unique situations SeeD members wound up in. There was no textbook that could explain the intricacies of the brunet's nature. For all intents and purposes, he'd venture a guess that the boy had been far more distraught about his brief absence than nearly being raped by some sick psychopath. He wasn't sure if such an idea should warm his heart or cause him worry.

Regardless, the inexplicable emotions that ran beneath a carefully guarded mask could not be defined. Much the same, he couldn't assume anything. So, his reluctance to start anything sexual so soon after _the incident_, which he so aptly named for lack of time to stream enough curses together in its proper title, was uncalled for. Seeing that he needn't restrain himself or fret, he dipped in to capture those lips.

Soft and pliant, Squall's lips parted at the first lick of his tongue. With a content sigh, Seifer slid into the wet cavern and tasted the delicious sweetness that he so craved. Gliding over the silky appendage, he felt himself falling into the euphoric state of mind that came with acts of lust.

Moving a step up from mimicking, Squall returned kiss with equaled fervor, having gained enough experience to hopefully give the blond as much pleasure as he'd always received from their kisses.

Groaning, Seifer attacked the brunet's mouth with increased need and passion, the feel of his little kitten battling his tongue was beyond arousing. It wasn't so much a want to win the battle, but the need for more.

Delving deeper, feeling every contour of the brunet's sweet mouth, Seifer greedily consumed the soft moans. When he felt sated enough to at least let the younger man breathe, he retreated.

Taking a deep breath, Squall wasn't quite ready to lose the feel of the blond's lips or tongue. Sliding his hands along a broad chest, the tone muscles evident even through the cotton material of his shirt, he laced his fingers together behind the man's head. Drawing Seifer back down, he urged him to continue the kiss, not to stop for his account.

Eagerly, Seifer took the hint, claiming those lips and that sweet mouth as his, for no other to tread near. It suddenly occurred to him that after being healed, Squall's milky skin was returned to its beautiful pale and unblemished condition. While this was a good thing, it also meant all his markings were gone. There was no evidence that he'd touched Squall, tasted and devoured the man, or taken the Commander for himself.

A small grin spread across Seifer's face, effectively ending the prolonged kiss they were sharing. Impishly, he stared into blue eyes. When Squall hadn't managed to read his mind, he raised a hand and traced the scar running between the young man's beautiful eyes. A mirror of his own, it didn't seem to lessen any of the man's unearthly beauty. In fact, it gave him character. No one would believe such an innocent and almost light framed eighteen year old could have been battle worn. Yet there was a mysterious history behind the Commander's prominent scar. A history, that was not void of rumors involving a twin scar on Ultimecia's knight.

However, few knew who had given the wound, and for that it was not a sign of their involvement, especially since they hadn't been involved when the cuts were given.

Moving his finger away, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the diagonal, pinkish line. It almost made him laugh at the sensitivity Squall showed for the area when he licked it. Smirking again, he stared back into swirling blue depths that he could truly get lost in. "My hickeys are gone," he stated with a slight air of pride, as though the mere mentioning of their absence meant he'd staked new ones already.

"Your hickeys?" Squall questioned incredulously. As he recalled, there had only been a few marks left along his neck and various other less visible areas, and a rather prominent bite mark along his shoulder.

"Yes, well," Seifer began, shifting positions, "The point is we need to fix that." More than ready to start on his new mission, he propped himself up on his arms, turning Squall onto his back so that he hovered over the smaller man.

"Oh?" Squall questioned, rather amused at the blonde's odd train of thought and concepts over what he'd first learned to be called 'love bites'. Humoring where Seifer was going with this, knowing that regardless of what the man had in mind it would most likely feel quite pleasant, Squall spread his legs to accommodate the knight's form.

Seifer suppressed a groan at the brunet's actions. Having been atop the man evenly, the seductive movement, which merely watching was enough to make his hardening length twitch, had pressed the lower half of their bodies together. With his growing erection rubbing against the forming bulge in Squall's none too constricting pajama bottoms, it was easy to become disoriented with lust.

As a man on a mission, Seifer regrettably eased his arousal away from outside influences. Running his hands down the sides of Squall's torso, he ended his journey at the hem of the loose fitting t-shirt, which he was more than happy to have lent to the Commander. Well, perhaps lent wasn't the correct verb. He had _insisted_ on the boy wearing it so that he might see what the brunet looked like in it, but that was simply because of a wet dream he'd had not too long ago.

Pushing the shirt up, he revealed toned abs and creamy skin that was impossibly soft and smooth to the touch. While he was generally an impatient person, he took the time to savor everything. He relished in the feel of every curve. He smiled while deriving his own pleasure from the spasms the muscles gave as he trailed light touches over them.

Having exposed a pale chest, he ignored the bunched up presence of the shirt, his attention drawn to a rosy pink nipple. Laving his tongue over the pert nub, he then tweaked it between his teeth with a grin, listening to the first strings of music being plucked from that wonderfully enticing voice.

"Nnh," Squall stifled the groan erupting from his throat as his nipple was stimulated. He felt, rather than saw, the grin on the blonde's face, since the shirt was in the way. Quickly ridding himself of the clothing, he let the material fall away somewhere before pulling on the darker material of the blonde's shirt. Squall was unable to sit up properly, or even focus very well when the knight suddenly used a hand to brush over his other nipple, all the while remaining adamant in his suckling of the first. Even so, he grasped the material bit by bit, pulling the folds higher and exposing the tanned and firmly muscled flesh of Seifer's back.

The blond broke away from Squall, only long enough to let the younger man rid him of his top. Returning to the hardened nipples, he let his fingers massage the nubs while his mouth moved higher. Making his way slowly, he tasted the clean skin, sucking on the collar and earning a few more cords of music. Once he reached the junction between the neck and shoulder, he teased the flesh with nips and kisses, making sure to leave a prominent display of broken blood vessels.

Squall had a hard time differentiating one sensation from another, between Seifer's hands and tongue. His back arched against the roughened fingers. Sensitive and abused, the hands' play on his nipples was almost painful, but in the end his involuntary arching led him to believe it was also quite pleasurable.

Running his hands along Seifer's tanned back, he varied his touches between massaging the muscles and racking his nails gently. Judging from the groan the blond gave, he'd say the ex-knight enjoyed it. He rather enjoyed it as well, hearing the reactions that his touch wrought forth.

As he felt Seifer's lips leave their mark and trail along his jaw, he leaned his head back to give the blond a better angle. When his left ear was nibbled on, his eye nearest to the source shuttered close as a shiver ran down his spine.

"Seifer," the name rolled off his lips as the man ran a tongue over the shell of his ear. There were hands running through his hair, helping to angle his head back further and expose himself for the blond's actions.

With his hands in silky hair, Seifer turned Squall's head to the side to bare the underside of a finely cut jaw. Leaving an apparently sensitive ear behind, he set to work on forming yet another hickey. Though, this one was more to anger the brunet when they were finished. Just below the jaw, there would be no high collared uniforms to hide it, nor would he go easy so that it might be covered by makeup.

Squall lay back, becoming more consumed by arousal with each passing moment. His fingers twined into blonde hair, feeling the motion of the blond's head as it bobbed ever so slightly while kissing his neck.

There was only so much foreplay he could take though, as his body tried to arch upwards and find more contact with the heated body that hovered over him. His hips gave an involuntary buck, but even when spreading his legs further apart and repeating the action, the blond remained just out of reach.

Not one to be easily reduced to pleading or begging, or even voicing his wishes, Squall abruptly took control in order to have the contact he wanted. Flipping their forms over, Squall rest atop a momentarily bewildered knight. The bewilderment was fleeting as he promptly ground his hips down, rubbing against the bulge in the blonde's pants. He watched as questioning green eyes closed, and a softly spoken curse was hissed out.

Having obtained something solid to rub against, Squall instinctively followed the need to again grind himself down and increase the friction. It felt so good.

"Fuck, Squall," Seifer hissed through a groan. If the brunet kept rocking against him, then they'd never make it any further. Reaching out, he clasped the impatient hips tightly to steady them. Taking a deep breath, he registered the need within those blue eyes. Experimentally, he used his hands to press Squall down on him, not gyrating, but increasing the pressure.

The results of his actions were better than he could have predicted. Their hardened members, which were tenting against meager confines, were being pressed against each other so that it was almost painful. The brunet had braced himself with two arms on his chest, those plump and swollen lips parted in a gasp. Dark lashes had fluttered, closing blue eyes from his view. It was such a sight to behold, one he tried desperately to memorize so that he might always recall it at any given moment.

Licking his lips, it occurred to Seifer that he hadn't been able to watch Squall's face directly while having an orgasm. He was suddenly filled with an overpowering lust to see that beautiful and more often than not impassive face contort with the feel of ecstasy. The desire to see this coursed through him.

Releasing the slim hips, and thus easing the pressure, Seifer blindly reached behind himself. Beneath the pillow his head rested on, his hand moved around in search of something. Finally finding the small plastic bottle, he pulled it out. Conveniently placed, he hadn't exactly put it there with any expectations of using it so soon. The massage oil was a far cry from Vaseline. While their last time together had not been any less enjoyable, the lubricant of choice would definitely be the oil. Having nicked it from Kadowaki's medicine stores, he'd figured that one way or the other he'd have to become more knowledgeable with various lubricants, since he'd surely be screwing around with the brunet many more times to come.

Squall watched with curiosity, wondering when the blond had found the time to obtain the stuff. Then, as he realized what it would be used for, a pleasant wave of expectation ran through him.

Flipping the cap open, Seifer poured a bit onto his fingers. Setting the bottle next to him on the bed, he rubbed his fingers together. Reaching his other hand to the drawstring on the flannel pants, he pulled one end of the slipknot and gave a tug to the waistband to effectively loosen it up. His slicked hand moved around, behind Squall, and promptly slid beneath the encasing material.

Biting his lower lip, Squall shifted so his hands supported him on the bed instead of Seifer's toned chest. The change lowered him to lean forward a bit. A soft sigh escaped him at the first feel of Seifer's fingers against his opening. One slick digit eased into him. He knew he was in for trouble when he felt the finger teasingly retreat and swirl a bit. With the patience he had left, he ignored the prolonging of the preparation, relishing in the arousing feel of it. Though, he knew that if Seifer kept the leisurely pace, he'd be forced to simply pound himself onto the knight's cock.

Seifer watched the changing expressions on the aroused lion's face. With dark brows drawn close over closed eyes and a red lip being worried between barely visible teeth, he knew that Squall wanted to feel more. Pressing his finger deeper, he had to question whether it was truly as enjoyable for all people as it seemed to be for Squall. Perhaps it was the combined factors that the brunet could take more pain than most and was overly sensitive to the foreign sensations of being touched and given pleasure. There was also a very good chance that he was just that damn good in bed, or so the arrogant knight would lead himself to believe.

A second finger joined the fun, scissoring the puckered entrance in turn with small thrusts inward. Squall gripped the bed sheets, while forcing himself to keep control and not force himself back on those fingers. Gritting his teeth against the pain, which he could no longer ignore upon the addition of a third appendage, he stifled his small cry. The unbecoming whimper that escaped him when Seifer brushed his prostate was very nearly his breaking point.

Seifer watched avidly, his cock leaking at the mere sight of the brunet writhing atop him. At the small whimper given off, he knew exactly where the lithe man's most sensitive spot was. However, so erotic was the sight and sound of Squall at the moment, that he seriously considered avoiding that spot during the rest of his preparation. If Squall continued, he'd find himself unable to last much longer.

Regardless of his qualm over the matter, Seifer could not deny the pleasure the brunet so obviously derived from having his prostate stroked. Thrusting his fingers in he raked over the sweet spot and felt his cock twitch with excitement at the responding cry of ecstasy.

"Seifer," Squall practically panted, "No more," he pleaded. He couldn't wait any longer. His penis was achingly hard, and he so desperately wanted to be filled.

"Squall," Seifer began, knowing the brunet wasn't nearly ready enough, "A bit more, just wait."

Swallowing an impatient groan, Squall squeezed his eyes shut and bid his body to relax and wait. "My pants," he said, unable to find a better way of stringing words together to convey his meaning. Seifer took the hint though, and gave him a brief moment of reprieve while he quickly removed his pants.

Repositioning himself, Squall was settled back and Seifer immediately set to work again. His rations of assembled patience and control were dissipated however, as Seifer once again pressed against the oh-so pleasure-ringing region. "Naahh," the unintelligible noise passed through parted lips.

Squall hastily grabbed the bottle of massaging oil. His actions earned the retraction of Seifer's hand. Opening the cap, he laved a fair portion into one hand while roughly yanking the band of Seifer's pants to expose the blonde's leaking cock. Gripping the organ, he gave a coating stroke to it. The touch of his hand killed off any protests the older boy might have had at his hasty actions.

Having slicked Seifer's erect penis, he carefully guided himself onto it. Unable to see, he floundered momentarily while seeking to press the head of the cock into his entrance. Once he managed that much, he became aware of how careful he'd need to be. Aside from the pain he felt, there was much resistance, and if he went too quickly, he'd end up hurting Seifer.

Biting his lip, Squall gently pressed down, wincing as he felt piercing pain. It was somehow gratifying, knowing that while painful, it was the same feeling of being filled beyond capacity that he'd been lusting for.

The member was deep enough inside him that he could finish the process without worrying about Seifer. His legs gave out abruptly, the muscles no longer supporting his weight while experiencing the pain.

"Hyne!" Seifer half shouted through the room. Squall had fallen onto him, completely encasing his length within tight heat. There were spots before his eyes, while his engorged member pulsed with pleasure. Embedded deeply within the brunet, he was growing more than a little impatient himself.

Slumping forward, Squall breathed heavily and willed himself to stretch faster. He waited for a minute or two, slowly feeling the pain recede, though never entirely. "I'm going to start moving," he announced.

Seifer regarded the stubborn man, who had suddenly revealed a dominant side. The inexperienced kitten hadn't waited long before attempting to practice on his own. Though, as those slim hips moved tentatively for the first time, he could not have cared less about who was in control. That sinfully tight hole gripped him firmly, making every little movement noticeable. Every breath the brunet took felt like a small stroke to his cock.

Slowly drawing off the blond, Squall pressed back down, repeating the action several times. When his passage began to accommodate the large intrusion, he drew off further and pressed down more quickly. The tempo began to climb, creating such a heated friction that he felt as though he was being seared by the man's penis.

Leaning back, Squall changed the angle slightly, though the small change made all the difference. Moaning as he felt his prostate being hit, he picked up the pace again.

Seifer's hands clamped onto slim hips, helping to rock the body up and down. With his help, Squall began to take longer and harder thrusts onto him. Between the sight and the feel, he felt himself climbing towards his release quickly. He could clearly see his erection as the brunet pulled off so that only the tip of his cock was embedded, and then it vanished as that tight hole encased him entirely. The gripping walls of the tight channel stroked him like nothing else possibly could. Then there was the beautiful form of the Commander, gyrating up and down onto his cock. Dark bangs became matted to a pale forehead, as sweat began to bead with the effort behind it all. Hot breaths were released between moans. His eyes fell toward Squall's own erection, thus far ignored.

"Ahh-Seifer," Squall panted, his body straining to keep going.

Seifer saw the utter need for fulfillment within the younger man. Squall was working furiously to reach it, but still falling short. It was a taxing position, to be thrusting onto him like this, and he knew that the little lion was exerting himself. He himself could not last much longer, as he felt the beginning tremor of ejaculation. "Touch yourself," he supplied the answer.

As a delicate hand unabashedly took a hold of the straining member, white pearls of cum ran down from the mushroomed tip. Seifer groaned at the added bonus of watching Squall touch himself. His grip tightened on the pale hips.

Sensing that there was another factor that needed to be taken care of, Seifer gave his own thrusts upwards.

"Ahh!" Squall cried out, feeling Seifer slam deeper than before. Stroking himself in sync with the now quick and forceful thrusts, Squall felt himself falling over the edge.

Seifer's hands were sure to leave marks as they held tightly to Squall's hips and forced the lithe body to slam down onto his pelvis with audible slaps. Over and over again, he pushed up forcefully to meet that overwhelming heat.

Deeper with each thrust, Squall practically rammed himself down without any coherent thought, only with a need for the sheer pleasure such actions brought. Panting, he stroked himself one last time before he felt his climax take him over.

"Aaahh, Seifer!" he cried as he threw his head back and white cum spurt forth to coat his hand and Seifer's stomach.

Seifer gave a cry of his own, calling out Squall's name, as that tight ass clenched around him. With a final thrust, he lifted his hips off the bed and pressed Squall down harshly. Embedded deep within the tight walls of heat, he shot waves of hot liquid, filling the cavity as he gave a few ending thrusts to milk himself completely.

Chest heaving, Seifer let his muscles relax as he settled back onto the mattress. An exhausted lion collapsed against him, panting deeply while feebly shifting to lie a bit more comfortably.

Their bodies were slick with sweat, having chosen a slightly more tiring way of screwing each other.

By the time Squall's breathing had returned to normal, his eyes had drooped shut and he felt the haze of sated sleep wash over him.

While Seifer lay still, winding down from the intense release, he felt his heart beat madly for another reason. Whether out of the often uninhibited feelings that came during sex, or simply because he could no longer contain the realization he'd reach not so long ago, Seifer pressed his lips to the mop of dark hair and whispered softly, "Do you have any idea how much I love you?" It was more a declaration than a question.

Through the drifting haze, Squall had managed to catch Seifer's words. It took a moment for the meaning and serious manner in which it was stated to settle in. Craning his neck, his looked up into slightly expectant green eyes.

'He _loves_… me?' his mind questioned. He was too tired to serious contemplate the meaning or his own feelings. Regardless, his heart beat wildly in his chest, and an uncharacteristic smile spread across his face. He hadn't even registered that he had done it, nor why, but that didn't matter. Leaning up, he pressed his lips softly to the blond's.

Elated at the positive reaction, Seifer felt more certain that he wouldn't be regretting such a hasty confession later on. He hadn't been expecting Squall to say anything. In fact, if the brunet had, he might have questioned whether any utterance of returned affections was truly heartfelt or just said to appease him.

Wrapping his arms around the pale form, which was far warmer after their bit of fun, Seifer gently turned on his side. Easing his softened penis out of Squall, he grabbed an unused shirt that lay nearby and wiped off the brunet's hand and his stomach. Pulling the strewn blanket around them, he hugged Squall's bare form to himself, much the same as he'd been doing when they'd first lain down to sleep.

With a final kiss to Squall's forehead, he noted that the brunet was already sleeping. He wondered how the younger man managed to look so innocent, even after riding him in such a sinfully pleasing manner.

He was absolutely certain at that moment, that whether or not his confession would prove to be a mistake, his words held true. He'd fallen in love, and with the least likely person in the world. Yet, he couldn't imagine himself ever being so contented with anyone else.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Unable To Love

It was late morning before the pair of sated fighters had managed to stumble from the bedroom and clean themselves up.

Emerging from the bathroom, Squall rolled his eyes at the blond following behind him. "I'm wearing the bandage," the brunet affirmed for the fourth time. With his hair damp and jutting out at odd angles, Squall ran a hand through it to comb it back. Wearing naught but a pair of jeans, he stalked into the larger flat area of his apartment. Adorning his neck, just below his jaw nearer the left side, was a square white bandage.

"I don't see the big deal," Seifer complained, following the smaller man closely. His hair equally wet, though he was more fully dressed. Always the man to know what made him look good, he donned a deep red, French-cuffed shirt and defining dark gray slacks. Not necessarily formal, he didn't bother with any ties, nor did he own any dress shoes.

Earlier, when the brunet had slipped from his supposedly sleeping grasp, he'd waited a few minutes before joining in on the morning shower. With an amused grin, he puffed out his chest and watched the slightly hunched way in which Squall was walking. If their fun last night hadn't done it, then their morning shower escapades had. Still grinning, he continued, "A Commander is allowed to have a sex life, no one will care."

Without glancing back, Squall replied evenly, "I'll care. I have an expected image to uphold, it's bad enough that every official out there is looking for a reason to get me out of my position. They've already claimed I'm too young, I don't need to walk around looking as though I can't control some teenage sex drive."

"Leonhart," Seifer admonished, "No one's trying to get rid of you. From what I hear, you're like some sort of hero," he finished sarcastically.

"To the public," the brunet sighed, more than tired of being in the spot light for so long. "But, Trabia and Galbadia aren't the public, and they don't like Balamb having an eighteen year old Commander. They never have, but they couldn't do anything after we kicked your ass and killed Ultimecia."

"I won't respond to that comment, only because I got to fuck you again this morning," Seifer stated lamely, clapping a hand to the brunet's sore ass before walking towards the kitchen. He'd been wondering when the stubborn man would begin poking fun about who came out on top in the war.

Squall couldn't suppress a small smirk. It was relieving to know that no matter how their relationship changed or how attached the blond knight had truly become, they could still carry on with a feeling of normalcy. In fact, Squall felt certain that if they stopped arguing over every little detail then something would be seriously wrong.

Walking into his room, which took a great deal more effort than he was letting on, Squall left his hair alone to dry. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd actually combed it with an actual comb. There was a good chance that he never had, or at least no evidence of any hair care tools to prove otherwise.

As he bent down to open one of his dresser drawers, he seriously considered using a healing spell on himself. However, his stubborn mind resolved to bite the bullet. Unless it was for battle, SeeD shied away from using magic. Besides, he wouldn't be able to cast any spells until he saw Dr. Kadowaki that afternoon.

The lethargy to his body was one of the shorter lasting effects, thankfully. By the time the older doctor had discharged him, his synapses were back in working order. The trouble was with the Silence, which was not to be lifted until his body had returned to complete equilibrium. It was an unnecessary precaution in his opinion, but he had to respect Kadowaki's authority, lest he abuse his own.

The ever-comforting presence of Shiva was sorely missed, though Squall had had little time to dwell on his Guardian's silence. Now that it was approaching noon, he'd be off to see Kadowaki. There was a defiant part of him that wanted to reach into his own stores of Echo Screen and rid himself of the lingering Silence effects. Not that magic was his only defense. In fact he had always been a far more melee prone. Still, the feeling of being gimped remained, and it was not something he cared to have.

"You've got no food," Seifer's voice called out to him in complaint, stirring him from his thoughts.

Straightening up, Squall gave the wall a sardonic look while donning a long sleeve burgundy shirt. Retrieving a pair of socks from the top drawer, which was at a level he needn't bend for, he carefully sat on his bed. Bare of sheets, he made a mental note to get a fresh set sometime that day.

When no further comments came from the knight, Squall figured he'd given up. Feet covered, he stood and made for his gunblade case, which thanks to Seifer currently held Lionheart inside.

He holstered his gunblade, something that being without made him feel as though he were more naked than if weren't wearing any clothing.

Joining the blond in the kitchen, Squall leaned against the open entryway and watched with amusement as Seifer scowled at anything and everything within the kitchen. "What did the fridge ever do to you?" he asked with underlying mirth. The blond had given a rather fierce glare at the aluminum surface of the large appliance.

"Nothing," Seifer practically spat, though there was a gentle undertone that let on he wasn't seriously upset. "There's no food." While he had made this observation for himself the first day he arrived, he had yet to nag Squall about it.

Chuckling lightly, Squall walked passed him and opened the fridge. Reaching in, he grabbed a bottle of water. "The cafeteria has food," he pointed out.

"I'll have to remember that," Seifer commented, deciding the brunet knew what he was trying to imply.

Watching the brunet sip the clear liquid, Seifer compulsively licked his lips. Averting his eyes from the small movement of the pale throat, he began to wonder if there was a downside to being so turned on and attracted to Squall. Wanting to touch the young Commander every second, but too afraid to lose control. One touch could lead to so much more, and Squall was proving to be a persistent lover, never turning on the yellow light. For a guy such as himself, he wouldn't leave the bed if his partner were still willing for more. And yet, here he was, consciously aware of every signpost, making sure he didn't start anything that the brunet would overexert to finish.

Seifer felt it would be best if they were in a more public place. There was less chance of anything happening with prying eyes nearby. Clearing his throat, he suggested, "Let's go to the cafeteria for an early lunch." When Squall just took another sip of water, he felt his usual need to clash heads stir within. "You don't eat enough. We're going, and you're eating," he said firmly.

In a moment of indecision, Squall debated refusing the blond. It wasn't so much that he wasn't hungry or that he felt compelled to rebel against being given orders, but that once he saw Kadowaki he'd be given the same exact order. Either he could agree now, with his own free will, or he could have the doctor mandate it.

Giving a small nod, Squall agreed.

"Good boy," Seifer patronized mockingly with a pronounced ruffle to damp locks. The brunet's hair looked like a bird's nest once he was done. He chuckled when the annoyed man gave off a groan that sounded rather like a growl.

Reclining comfortably, Seifer sat across from Squall at a small square table in the most remote area of the cafeteria. In a far corner, the brunet sat on the side that was partially hidden by a round pillar.

Part of the spacious dining hall included a courtyard, where students could eat or do homework during warmer seasons at picnic tables. However, in the approaching winter months, tall glass doors had been sealed closed to protect the inside from biting winds and cold weather. Their table was situated right beside the glass wall, giving a chiller feel to one side in opposition to the warm currents of air that filled the rest of the large room. There was a constant din of students' lunchtime chatter. For the most part, the sounds were mixed together, no group of cadets venturing to eat close enough to the Commander or Ultimecia's knight.

Sitting stiffly, Squall sniffed in slight distain at the steaming mug of hot chocolate. The beverage had been placed before him after being ordered by the blond. Having already been compliant enough with the nearly finished tuna sandwich he'd eaten, he felt inclined to inform the knight that he had no intention of being pushed around like some five year old incapable of taking care of himself. Before he could make a statement however, Seifer spoke.

"You're eating for two now, you can't just have whatever you want," Seifer said, seeing the gleam of defiance in those gray-blue eyes.

Furrowing his brows, Squall couldn't help the immediate questioning of, "What?"

"Well," Seifer began to reason, holding back the laughter that wanted to escape at the innocently confused look on the brunet's face, "I'll be tasting whatever you eat or drink. I like hot chocolate, so you should drink it."

Setting the mug down, Squall rolled his eyes. "You're ridiculous," he stated, folding his arms and contenting himself for a bout of silence in which he'd muse to himself while staring out the window.

With a soft chuckle, Seifer reached over to take the drink for himself. When a delicate hand pressed atop his own to stop the movement, a shiver shot through his body. His subconscious seemed to know something pleasant was coming.

"I never said I wouldn't drink it," Squall mumbled, retracting his hand and continuing to stare out the window.

It was a forced action to settle back into his seat and not jump across the table at the stoic young man. The public place was proving its worth as he managed to refrain. The drink had been meant as a joke, one that would hopefully serve to rile a few feathers. However, he found himself on the other end of the trivial jest.

Needing a moment to collect himself, Seifer gazed out the window in much the same manner as his younger counter part.

It was nasty weather outside. Cloudy and cold, it drizzled down chilled drops of rain that were fluctuating between water and the first snow of the season. It was odd to have the weather be so cold at this time of the year. It was only November, and while snow wasn't unheard of, it was uncommon being so near the sea.

When staring out the window proved too dull, Seifer turned his attention to the profiled face of the quiet boy. Every so often, dark lashes would blink over bright eyes. He didn't see what was so special outside, but whatever it was kept Squall's attention. Though, Seifer knew the solemn fighter well enough to know that Squall's focus was far more inside than just the room they occupied. There were innumerous times that he'd wondered what went on in that pondering head of the brunet.

While he had always wondered, he hadn't ever been in a position to ask. So, now that he was, he took advantage of it. "What are you thinking?" he questioned lightly, showing that he was being serious for a change.

It was another moment of lost reverie before Squall turned his eyes to Seifer. Blinking, he thought back and registered the question. Reflexively, his lips parted to reply 'nothing', but he stopped himself short. Taking another moment to properly form the scattered thoughts in his head, he admitted, "Laguna,"

There was a ridiculous flipping in Seifer's stomach. Not showing his own dismay at the unbecoming giddiness that he felt, he instead relished in the fact that Squall had actually given him a straight answer. Unsure of what words would prompt more of a response, since he would quite enjoy simply listening to the less than talkative man speak all day, Seifer chose to gesture with his eyes.

Chewing on his bottom lip for a moment, Squall watched green eyes regard him intently while light eyebrows rose in question. He often found himself speaking at great lengths around the blond. In fact, that was generally how it had always been. Even if the words were an exchange of insults and meaningless banter, he usually wound up speaking more to Seifer in one day than he did to even Quistis in a month.

The last meeting, between Squall and Laguna, had been weighing heavily on the brunet's mind. The matter had been bothering him, though due to the most recent jumbling of events he hadn't spend a lot of time dwelling on it.

It killed Squall to know exactly how enthusiastic and warm hearted his father truly was. Thanks to Ellone, he had quite an insight into the man's past and inner workings. Granted, he had initially spurned the happy and care free manner in which the Galbadian soldier had conducted himself. But, even before he'd learned of his relation to the man, he'd developed somewhat of a soft spot. It was not so much an attachment as it was a tolerance. He tolerated his father's behavior, even humored it on rare occasions.

What hurt Squall was, knowing exactly how his father felt. Those blue-green eyes betrayed every emotion, nothing was ever guarded from showing through. The man's heart was on his sleeve, and it was beating with unconditional affection for him.

The first moment that the familial revelation came to light, the longhaired man seemed to automatically develop deep seeded feelings of love. And then there was Squall, who didn't even know if he was capable of such an emotion, much less feel it for a man he barely knew.

Squall thought he'd been in love with Rinoa. The simple word had never mattered to him, but at the same time it carried a greater weight for him than for those who carelessly spouted it off. Obviously he hadn't been in love, he'd been sadly mistaken, and some how wound up hurting the raven-haired girl in the process of his confusion.

He didn't doubt the truth behind the word when it was spoken by Seifer. It actually stirred something inside of him when he heard it. Much the same, he hadn't doubted the President when last they met and the older man had expressed the same feeling.

Shocked and panicked were the forefront emotions that had risen in him when Laguna had blurted the words out after pulling him into a hug. The older man didn't seem able to understand him, and had been gradually working up to a worried frenzy that they'd never truly act like a father and son should.

It had been painfully obvious that his father had wanted to hear him return those same words, to hear him repeat back, 'I love you too, dad.'

But, he hadn't. He'd stayed silent, and watched as the man's eyes glistened. That had marked the end of their brief meeting. And with a final hug, in which his father seemed to cling to him, the man had left.

Unable to sort his thoughts out properly, Squall had refused to speak about it with anyone, even Seifer.

Now, however, after the blond's admission of love, he wondered if perhaps it would be wise to seek help. He didn't want to hurt Laguna, but neither could he say any phrases of affection that held a hollow echo. That, would probably cause the man to burst into tears.

"Squall," Seifer snapped his fingers in front of distant blue eyes. There seemed a hurt look to them, a look he couldn't stand to see without remedying it.

Abruptly pulling from his memories, Squall stared at the blond. While he wanted to seek the knight's help, he also remembered that the blond was in a similar position as Laguna. Both men were awaiting his returned affections, all the while he floundered in an attempt to find the ability to love within himself.

"I…." Squall found himself unable to voice his thoughts. Indecision was not something he enjoyed, especially when he was the one who couldn't choose.

"Hey!" a voice interrupted the stilled moment, relieving the brunet from having to decide.

Zell came striding up to their table. With an extra chair in one hand and a plate of food in the other, the spiky haired fighter slid into place. Settled between the two, facing the window, Zell gave the Commander a smile.

"Raijin took care of my classes, and I managed to get out to Esthar like you asked," Zell stated, taking a bite of one of three hotdogs set before him on a plate.

Lost for a moment, while trying to recall exactly what it was he'd asked Zell to do, Squall was cut off before he could even begin.

"Chicken-wuss, can't you see we were having a private conversation?" Seifer growled out, hating how the timid kitten seemed on the edge of revealing something and then being interrupted.

"Down boy," Zell replied, taking on a tone that suggested he was talking to a dog. A guard dog, to be more specific.

Before any fights could occur, Squall quickly asked, "What did you find at the missile base?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Zell chewed on another bite, swallowing just before answering, "Nothing new. It was like they told us. Someone broke in, took out the guards and the crazy doc, then they launched the missile."

"Any sign who did it?" Squall already knew who the culprit had been, or at least who they'd been working for. However, as much as he disliked disclosing information from his friends, he didn't want more people knowing about what happened in Dollet, not the specifics anyway. Though, he was legally bound to inform his father about the situation. Esthar had been dragged into the mess, and with their alliance, he was required to disclose all details. But, he'd worry about that when the time came.

"Naw, it was pretty much like a hit and run with no witnesses," the hyper man replied.

"Well, we took care of it all anyway, so there's no need to look into it anymore," Squall explained, subtly letting Zell know that his assistance wasn't needed any more.

"Who was it?" the spiky haired fighter asked automatically.

Seifer, catching on to Squall's wishes for secrecy, interjected, "The same guy who was stalking him. The moron was sloppy enough to leave a name with the group he hired to help him." With a cocky grin, he added, "Naturally, the guy was no match for me, so case closed."

Scratching his tattoo, Zell looked from one face to the next. There was something going on. Shrugging his shoulders in dismissal, he resolved to ask Quistis later. It would be like pulling teeth to get Squall to talk about something he didn't want to. "Okay," he voiced his understanding that it was over. "Oh," he perked up, again remembering why he'd trotted over to their table in the first place. "Greta has your cat," he informed.

"Thanks for telling me," Squall mumbled, sitting back into his chair in a brooding manner.

"Greta?" Seifer questioned, not recalling Squall having an acquaintance by that name.

"The head cook in the kitchens," Zell provided as an answer with a hint of pride.

Quirking a brow, Seifer stared at the impassive brunet. "Why does the lunch lady have your cat?"

"Hey," Zell warned, "She's more than a lunch lady."

Turning his mischievous green eyes on the hot-tempered young man, Seifer goaded, "Look Dincht, if you have a fetish for cooking skills, then go off and marry the woman, but don't preach to me about it." He knew of the Dincht's obsession with his mother's cooking and a particular fetish for hotdogs.

Standing abruptly, the spiky haired fighter punched the air. "You wanna go Almasy?"

"Zell, settled down," Squall reprimanded, not wanting a spectacle.

Listening to the brunet, Zell seated himself again, though he sent a glare towards the knight. The arrogant man would never change, always able to get under his skin. Huffing, he returned to his meal and mumbled, "If all I looked for was how well a person could cook, I would have hooked up with Squall a long time ago."

At this comment, Seifer stiffened and Squall who had unfortunately taken his first sip of the cooled drink choked on the liquid. Coughing as controlled as he could manage, Squall cleared his air passage.

Zell, who seemed none the wiser to the odd reactions, began to work on his second hotdog.

While Seifer would have loved to make a retorting comment, he'd already pushed the brunet around enough. Instead, he took a moment to find something to fill the soon to be noticed silence between them. "So the head chef has your fur ball?"

With a small nod, Squall answered, "He's an out door cat, never stays in the apartment unless I'm going to be there."

"Yeah," Zell began to explain a bit further, "He's a smart cat, always coming to the kitchens for food."

"And if it gets locked in the apartment?" Seifer questioned logically.

"Naw, Quistis visits at least once a day to let him out or in," Zell said, all traces of anger towards the knight gone.

"I see," Seifer ended. It figured that Squall was in such bad shape when he arrived. The Commander couldn't even care for a cat on his own, much less himself.

The three of them carried on in relative silence. Squall was perfectly contented with such an environment, and continued to stare out the window in reverie.

"So has Selphie gotten around to assigning you work for the festival?" Zell asked, having finished his lunch, he felt inclined to striking up a conversation.

Narrowing his eyes, Seifer looked at the hyperactive fighter. "I refuse to do any work for some festival."

Chuckling, Zell shook his head. A quick glance at Squall showed him the quiet Commander was still staring off, but listening in with a small knowing smirk. "You can't refuse. You can never refuse to help her, trust me."

Brows raised, Seifer regarded the brunet across from him. There was an amused smirk on those pretty lips, telling him Chicken-wuss' words were true. Groaning, he sat back in his chair, resigned to some fate that involved decorations and all around annoying celebrations.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

Knowing a Friend

Within the infirmary, Squall sat impassively on the edge of a bed, while Dr. Kadowaki poked and prodded. He was determined to get the whole thing over with.

"I've never had any one person visit me so many times," the older woman chastised kindly. Velcro sounded as she unstrapped the blood pressure wrap. "It's a medical anomaly that you're still as healthy as you are," she sighed, straightening up.

It was truly a surprise that Squall had still been walking about and working competently earlier that week. While exhausted, and not in the best shape ever, the boy had been able to function. Now, little less than a week later, he seemed to be in better shape, which didn't seem to be possible given the rumored events that had been demanding the Commander's attention.

Though, yesterday, the pale boy had come in looking a great deal worse than she'd seen him since the end of the war. Bruised and battered, it was obviously more than a normal battle. The hand shaped bruises on his neck had been proof of that. But, she wasn't SeeD, and within the messy rules of authority, she hadn't been given any details.

With magic, it was easy enough to heal almost any wound. The trouble with these soldiers was that if they hadn't gotten hurt in a legitimate fight, then they wouldn't allow the use of magic. It was perplexing and often times infuriating. While she hadn't lost a patient yet, a medical miracle for most doctors, she had a few close calls.

After years of the same military mindset about the boundaries between magic and medicine, she'd actually become adopted to the idea of what was forbidden. Usually it was all black and white. If a cadet tripped down a set of stairs and broke their leg, then a curing spell could not be used. If a cadet was training and broke their leg, then a spell could be used, if and only if the sparring had been an official one. It was ridiculous, but that was how the mercenaries were. They took nothing for granted, and she was powerless to say otherwise, since she was incapable of performing the spells herself.

Last night had been a tricky situation. Squall had initially refused a spell. Naturally, she had figured as much since the boy wouldn't have come to her in such a state in the first place if he could have just used a Cure, instead he would have just healed himself.

As usual, Squall had been accompanied by the rivaling blond knight. Of the many times either had been sent to her, or on rarer occasions hobbled along to see her willingly, there were few times she could recall that one had been here without the other.

The drugs in the brunet's system made it difficult to truly assess the boy's health. Some form of a barbiturate. There were no traces of it in the blood, at least nothing the toxicology screening showed. Mr. Kinneas had performed a healing spell against the Commander's wishes, but once it was done there was no use in arguing over it. However, the impairing status effects lingered, while the undetectable drug ran its course. There was little she could do without knowing what she was dealing with. So, she'd ordered Squall to rest for the night and see if his system flushed it all out.

By the time she'd been argued down to letting the Commander leave the infirmary while in her charge, the boy was already showing signs of recovery from the sedative. The young man was living proof that the mind could overcome the body. Judging from the small pricks on his arm she'd seen, there had been a constant injection of the stuff. Any depressant given in continual dosage, no matter the type, would knock a person out cold. It was a wonder the young man was even conscious when he came to her.

Sighing again, Dr. Kadowaki bit down on all the angry reprimands she wanted to give. Her words of caution had fallen on deaf ears for the past ten years-or-so that she'd been patching Squall up. There was no getting through, especially since trouble seemed to be Squall Leonhart's middle name. It was plain as day that the boy wanted to get of there as soon as possible, the way he _wasn't _squirming about on the bed, trying to be the perfect patient and get it over with.

Squall sensed that the doctor had finished with him, and judging from that look on her face, her lips formed a thin line, he was about to get another lecture.

When the dark haired woman didn't speak, but gave him a heart felt glare, he offered a small smile of reassurance.

"Oh, don't you go using your charms on me," she immediately reprimanded.

Squall's smile faltered. 'Charms?' he wondered. With a small shake of his head, he ignored it. "Am I discharged?" he asked softly, not wanting to further upset the woman, lest she schedule appointments for him through to the next month.

"Just as soon as I take a look at that," she gestured to the white bandage on Squall's neck. When he left the infirmary yesterday, there had been no wounds there.

Squall instinctively clasped a hand to the gauzy material taped to his neck. Short of wearing a scarf, he'd opted to put the thing over the hickie Seifer had given him. The arrogant blond had protested him covering it, but he wouldn't step outside the apartment with a prominent mark like that in such an obvious place.

"That's not necessary," he finally said.

Dr. Kadowaki studied Squall suspiciously, before heaving another sigh. "I'll have an early grave from the stress you give me, but you're good to go."

The brunet was gone in a blur, rushing passed her and out of the infirmary. She watched the door close and shook her head dejectedly. Some things would never change. She couldn't decide whether Squall liked it in here or not. He so often wound up injured and spending time in the hospital wing, but as soon as he came he struggled to get out. Perhaps the boy was a masochist.

With another shake of her head, she rid herself of the thought and focused her attention on more appreciative patients.

Squall rushed from the infirmary, practically jogging for the Training Center. He would have been running, except the fact that his ass was protesting every step he took. Ignoring the glances he received, he hurried along.

His shadow was off with Quistis. It was the first time in the passed five days that he hadn't been connected at the hip to Seifer, excluding the half hour or so of involuntary separation while Seifer had _handled _Epson.

The Head Instructor had caught the pair of them as they were on their way to the infirmary and beckoned Seifer to accompany her for a few questions. Squall had simply shrugged his shoulders, while Seifer had out right refused to leave his side. That had been his cue to huff in indignation and tell Seifer to go with Quistis, just to spite the man's controlling nature.

It wasn't that Squall was sick of Seifer's company, but it was slightly refreshing to have the isolation he so constantly sought. Besides, it wouldn't take long for Quistis to talk to Seifer, considering the blond had set the terms that whatever it was couldn't exceed an hour of his time.

While he would have preferred to take a trip down to the beach, even in the crummy weather, he chose to stay within the walls of Balamb Garden. If Seifer found out, which would have been more than likely, the ex-knight would throw a fit. As it was, the blond would probably yell at him for leaving the infirmary and going anywhere but back to their apartment.

But, there was no possible way Squall wasn't going to take full advantage of a clean bill of health and the lifting of his Silence. Even without Summoning, he could feel Shiva's presence more strongly. He'd spend his time fighting in the center, using the aid of his Guardian Force in each battle, just because he could. And, she would love it.

With an impending click of one of the double doors to the Headmaster's office, Seifer remained seated and waited. In a padded armchair before the glossy desk, he waited for Trepe to take her seat on the other side.

The blond noted the meticulous organization of the desktop. When he'd first arrived, Squall had been on the other end with a gaunt and sickly looking face, and the desk had been littered with piles of papers. Not that the brunet was disorganized, but most likely wasn't too concerned with carefully separated files and forms after six months of mind numbing labor.

Somehow Trepe's heals managed to click, if only a bit muffled, on the carpeted floor. He could feel the tense air. There was a furious gleam to her sky blue eyes, he'd seen it the moment she turned the corner and called him away.

Considering she was the one who had drawn up the conditions of his contract as Squall's bodyguard, explicitly stating that he was to keep an eye on the Commander at all times, it must have been a serious affair for her to draw him away from duty.

Though, he couldn't exactly say his time with Squall felt much like a duty anymore. It never really had, not even when he was desperately searching through Dollet. That had been a lover's desperation, there was nothing platonic about it. In fact, there was little feeling within himself for the Balamb Lion that could be considered platonic. Desire, lust, passion, and more recently, love. There were many ways in which he felt for Squall, none of which would be appropriate in maintaining professionalism.

As Quistis moved across the room, trying to mask her seething anger, she schooled her expression to look as intimidating to the blond knight as possible.

Leaning against the desk with her arms crossed, she looked down upon the bemused man who seemed none the wiser to why she'd called him in here. The blond certainly had a knack for stirring up trouble. Dollet had seen more action on a few days than in its entire history, and she had more than a sneaking suspicion that Seifer being there had something to do with it.

Adjusting her glasses, knowing the light glinted off them in a manner that shielded her enraged eyes from view, she spoke, "Sixteen bullets, nine grazing wounds. Knee caps shot, but not before having been popped out of place. Elbows shot, but not before being bent backwards. Feet mangled beyond recognition, five fingers broken with the other five missing completely. No right ear, blinded by what appears to have been a shot of rock salt to the face, tongue cut out, massive bruising to the groin, and more than fifteen percent of his body was covered by burns."

Seifer sat impassively, mentally ticking off each of wounds he remembered giving. When the young woman looked at him sternly as if expecting him to speak he gave her an innocent shrug. When that didn't seem to be sufficient he said, "Did they happen to say how many ribs were broken, or teeth missing?"

Stricken, Quistis stared in horror. She hadn't for a moment suspected Seifer's direct involvement. Perhaps a mix up with the clan known as Hollow's Knights, but she didn't think the blond could have had anything to do with Larkner's actual death. "You," she began but faltered. Swallowing, she found her resolve. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

"I left no traces leading back, so I assume you have something the police didn't. Don't worry your pretty little head about it Trepe. The police wanted the guy dead almost as much as I did. They won't do anything about it."

"Seifer!" she cried, her tone somewhere between outrage and disbelief. "Do you mean to tell me, that you brutally tortured and murdered this man?" When the green-eyed knight gave no response to the contrary, she sat fully on the desk and placed hand to her head. Mumbling to herself she said, "Definitely not an innocent life, but the manner in which it was done…."

"Don't doubt that he didn't deserve it," Seifer stated, becoming serious.

"I want you out of here," Quistis abruptly said, her head snapping up. "I cannot believe you could ever be capable of such a thing. This was _murder_, brutal and cold blooded."

Clenching his jaw, Seifer stood. Taking a step towards an unflinching temporary Headmistress, he made his standing clear. "I'm not leaving. Void the contract all you like. Squall has the last say, and he won't kick me out."

"Well, he doesn't know about-"

"He does," Seifer stated, cutting her off.

Wide eyed, Quistis rubbed her temple. Swallowing thickly again, she took a steadying breath. Her eyes searched the carpet below as if the answers would present themselves in writing for her there. "You, Squall, Irvine, Selphie, and the new cadet were in Dollet for thirty-two hours. Within that time frame, the yakuza leader Jeremiah Larkner and Tracy Yamada, his right hand assassin, were killed. There are at least five members of this underground gang that are dead, from some security breech." She made a presenting gesture as if to say, 'these are the facts'.

His face was an uncommon mask, betraying no emotion. "I suppose I went a little overboard, but as you said, not an innocent life. None of those men were in Hyne's good graces."

"What the _hell_ have you been doing? Do you have any idea what this could do to Balamb Garden, to Squall?" she said, her voice rising in distress.

"Jeremiah _Epson_ Larkner was Squall's stalker. It was unofficial business in Dollet, so I don't have to explain shit. I like you Trepe, really I do, but if you hound Squall on this, I will stop you. Drop it, this whole…" he raised his brows, drawing her attention to his eyes, "…is over," he finished.

Gaping for a moment, Quistis searched those frighteningly cold green eyes. First she finds out that Seifer, who she had known as a little boy, was capable of something she'd only ever associated with the cruelest and most coldhearted killers, and then he speaks as though threatening her. "Seifer," she began, at a loss.

Softening his eyes, he took a step back. He hadn't meant to frighten her, just make it clear that she wasn't to go around pestering his charge about something he obviously wanted kept secret. "Garden wasn't involved, so you don't have to make this your problem."

Still in a state of shock, Quistis regarded Seifer with hurt eyes. She felt like she didn't know the man at all. "I thought I knew you," she breathed out, dismayed and feeling almost betrayed.

With a calm smile Seifer said, "There is only one person who knows Trepe. The rest of you just like me cause I'm sexy."

Unable to contain a snort of laughter, Quistis allowed herself to chuckle. It helped, even if it felt wildly out of place given the gravity of her discovery. "I assume you're talking about Squall?"

"Yeah," Seifer replied softly.

"So, this guy was Squall's stalker?" she questioned, willing to at least put the event behind them and not speak of it. The tall knight gave a nod. Biting the inside of her cheek, she couldn't help but question the reasoning. "I know you're supposed to protect the Commander, but why…." She tried to find the right words.

"Why did I _go overboard?_" he supplied for her.

"To put it mildly," she intoned seriously.

"I had a very short period of time in which to make the bastard pay. If you think that was over kill, then you should have seen what I would have done if given a few days." Inwardly, Seifer sighed at the crestfallen expression on the instructor's face. Still, he'd always been an honest man, so he spoke his peace, "I did it out of rage, anger, hate, and a few other not so pleasant feelings. He got too close to Squall. I simply showed him the consequences of touching what wasn't his."

Quistis waited a moment, until she was certain her voice wouldn't fail. "It almost sounds as you think he was touching something that belonged to you." Gulping, she waited. Honestly, she felt as thought a big part of her world had just been turned upside down.

Chuckling, Seifer smiled brightly at her. Trepe seemed to find his expression assuring and even managed to give a small smile in return, though hers was hesitant and unsure. "That's because he did," Seifer said, watching the delayed faltering of the instructor's smile.

"What do you mean?" Quistis questioned, an apprehensive understanding was forming in the back of her mind, but nothing clear enough for her to comprehend. It was more a sneaking suspicion that she couldn't even give voice to.

"I don't kiss and tell Trepe," Seifer chastised while checking his watch. "I believe I've been gone too long already." Walking to the door, he smoothly opened it. Before he could take another step, however, he remembered something important. "Remember not to bother Squall about this. I don't need his head filled with guilt over anything I've done."

Panting, Squall wiped his brow with his shirtsleeve. Sticking Lionheart into the ground, he leaned against the makeshift cane. Stubbornly, he'd continued to fight regardless of his sore muscles and the acute pain in his lower back.

He'd missed the blurring flash of his swinging blade, and the adrenaline that came when facing off with a surprise enemy of a high level. Shiva was cheering merrily, loving the constant summoning.

However, he knew when to call it quits. Tired to the point of collapsing, he smiled while struggling to stand up straight. Sheathing his blade, he staggered towards the locker room. If he showered off there, then he could soak in the hot tub afterwards, and at that moment it seemed like an excellent idea. He could relax in solitude. It was days like these that he was most grateful for classes detaining each student.

Just before he could walk through the door, he felt the unmistakable presence of Seifer. Strong arms wrapped around his waist, and pulled him back against a hard chest. The way he was practically lifted off his feet gave his body much needed relief from holding itself up.

With the soft pull of tape, the bandage on his neck was disposed of. Before he could object, warm lips were attached to the spot that had been covered. Part of Squall wanted to reprimand the blond knight, and tell him not to do these things in a public place, but as he felt the gentle nibbling of teeth, such cautions fled his mind.

"You're sweaty," Seifer breathed huskily.

"I've been fighting, I need a shower," he replied.

"That's not a bad idea," Seifer said with a grin, hefting the brunet's smaller form into his arms before carrying him into the locker room.

TBC….

A/N Another chapter… hmm. I guess its almost like tying up loose ends, but I'm honestly not working towards the end yet. I have no clue how many more chapters there will be, I don't generally think in chapters. I just write with a general idea and if I can get the idea written in one chapter then that's fine, but sometimes I don't get until the fifth chapter. There are other events I want to cover. I think I want to go through the winter festival. Obviously the pacing I've been going at won't be the same, since I stated it was November and the festival won't be until December. Perhaps I'll do something with Seifer's birthday, since that's the 22nd of Dec. right?


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-Six

Surprises In Store

It had taken a solid twenty minutes of gentle and skillful massaging to get Squall to relax as fully as he was. Whether it was the less than private setting or the fact that this was yet another instance of intimacy that the little lion had never experienced, Seifer didn't know. It certainly wasn't the company, since Squall obviously had no qualms over letting go around him.

In the locker room, more specifically the therapy room where the hot tub resided, Seifer sat in the soothing water. Between his legs and resting against his chest was a tensionless Commander.

The sated kitten was practically purring as he hands worked the pliant muscles of the younger boy's shoulders. Feeling a tense knot, he worked out it with his thumb. A soft moan escaped the brunet pressed against him.

Ten minutes into his simple caressing touches was when the first sigh of gratification reached his ears from those enticing lips. Coincidentally, ten minutes ago was when he'd started to get a hard on.

Shifting slightly, so that he wasn't jabbing the pale form in front, he swallowed and continued to ease the strained muscles of Squall's shoulders.

The heated water rose just below his ribs. For Squall, who was leaning back, it came up to his pale chest. Upon Squall's adamant insistence, he'd worn a pair of swimming trunks. It didn't matter that they could simply hang an _out of order_ sign outside the door, the Commander was not willing to be caught stark naked pressed up against him. While caution was best, Seifer had been looking forward to seeing the nude form again.

When he felt the brunet's head press against his collar, the top of the damp mop of hair brushing his chin, he realized that Squall was falling asleep. Never breaking his touch, he ran his hands lower, along the sides of the lithe body. Dipping beneath the surface of the water, he smoothed his hands around Squall and let the slack body mold into his own.

Between the ever present whirring of the tub's motor, and the blanket of heat that covered them in the warm sauna-like room, he felt Squall fall completely vulnerable within slumber. Sweetly, that head of choppy strands nuzzled against him as that body turned to furrow impossibly closer. His arms enveloped the pale body, feeling the warm flesh and relishing in it.

Since he was the one on the conforming seat, he adjusted their positions so that he could better lean back. Squall was angled even more to the side, sitting atop his thigh. It was too difficult to have the man pressed between his legs, if he was stimulated any more, he would have to take care of it.

Before Squall could stir at his movements, he raised a hand to pet the chocolate mop, wetting it ever so slightly, though it was already damp from the man's second shower that day.

While he let the kitten sleep, elated that for one day Squall hadn't mentioned work or protested taking some time off, Seifer's mind wandered. His hand absently continued to stroke soft hair.

A week ago, he'd been perfectly resigned to the nomadic lifestyle, which he'd adapted to. Never in one city or town or outskirt village for more than a few weeks at a time, he never settled down. The only roots he'd ever grown were in Balamb Garden. But, considering he'd waged war against the world with a blatant focus on Balamb, he didn't think he could ever return.

Raijin and Fujin had showed up out of the blue. It hadn't been a particularly special day. Just wandering aimlessly around Timber, cursing the band of heroes with no real anger towards them. It might have been terribly selfish and wrong, but the war hadn't felt half as serious to him as it did to the people who had been hurt by it. It was almost like an escalated fight between the childhood group of orphans, however, admitting this would mean he'd caused so much destruction for a trivial reason.

While he had been serious, there had been moments where his resolve had faltered and he'd only kept at it because he'd waded too far out to not cross over.

And somehow, even for the bad guy, he'd received an impossibly happy ending.

Never in his wildest dreams had he been expecting to encounter such a turn of events.

Returning to Garden hadn't even been something he'd planned on, yet he'd managed to end up right back where he'd started. Walking through those gates for the first time in six months had felt good, as though he'd finally given in to some desire he hadn't even known he'd been harboring.

To see everyone again, only a little older but so much more mature. Squall hadn't changed though. Gaunt and too thin, the Commander looked sick and tired, but it was still the same old Squally-boy inside.

But, something was different, in him perhaps. For Squall remained unchanged, still quiet and aloof, serious to a fault and an over achieving stubborn ice prince. Yet, the brunet ensnared his senses, captured his heart like no other in only a matter of days.

Previously turned off by the idea that he, Seifer Almasy, could be attracted to another man, he was now completely endeared to it. He still couldn't see himself ever being attracted to another man other than Squall. More importantly, for that matter, he couldn't see himself being with _anyone else_. No seductive temptress could pull his eyes away from the enchanting sight of the little lion.

He'd honestly rather subject himself to a day of arguing with the fiery Commander than go a few rounds in bed with the prettiest girl he could find. Besides that, sex with Squall was proving far more enjoyable than any he'd ever experienced. From, that impossibly tight hole that felt like heaven, to that beautiful body. The Commander was the best fuck a guy could ever hope to have in ten lifetimes.

He was slowly becoming aware of every little quirk and each small change within Squall. From the brunet's sleeping tendencies, which he was quickly altering, to the near non-existent eating habits. He would turn Squall into a cuddle-bug if it took endless nights of holding the lithe form against his own. He wasn't trying to make the young man change for his own benefit, though he could find little more enticing than a Squall who constantly sought his touch. Rather, he was showing the brunet what intimacy could mean.

The Commander's previous relationships, which consisted only of the one with Rinoa, had shown him nothing of a lover's true touch. He knew Squall had feelings for him, even if the brunet couldn't vocalize it just yet or even understand it. There was no doubt, not when he'd taken the man's virginity consensually. There had to be feelings involved there, beyond pent up sexual frustration and lust, he knew Squall had grown attached to him.

It was more than obvious that Rinoa had not managed to capture the stubborn man's heart. It took a bit more than simply imagining a fairytale ending, something Caraway's little girl hadn't understood. She was truly sweet and meant well most of the time, but she was too immature. He should know, he'd dated her briefly. Sweet, but childish. Dreams were good, but not when that was all a person was. Rinoa was a dreamer and hopeless romantic, and there was little more beneath that smiling shell.

'Immature,' he mused with a smirk, 'and apparently not nearly enough sex drive to keep the Commander happy.'

It was surprising and shocking to find himself suddenly attracted to Squall, the younger man he'd known since they were little boys. It was mind boggling to discover that his sudden desires were returned. And as if he hadn't encountered enough to deal with, the brunet was developing a taste for sex.

A ridiculous grin spread across his face, one that he couldn't help. Staring down at the brunet, he felt his heart swell. Truly ridiculous, this feeling of happiness, but he just couldn't help it. It had been the same as when he'd felt the first stirrings of attraction. The consequences damned, he'd initiated a rather brutal kiss once his feelings had boiled over.

Squall could go to great lengths to keep their relationship a secret, but there would be no mistaking the look he was certain his eyes held while staring at the brunet. If anyone saw it, then they might as well hide everything by making-out in front of a conference room full of reporters.

'Why shouldn't anyone know?' he questioned. Understandably it might become rather tricky. Many people would protest the Commander's choice, he was Ultimecia's knight, and no one would like that. He could also imagine a few people protesting the fact that they were both men, but any matters pertaining to the war would outshine that issue.

The subtle movement Squall made, shifting higher on his lap as though anchoring to something solid that wouldn't let him slip beneath the water's surface, let him know that it was time to leave. While the warm water was no doubt soothing for the hidden pain in Squall's lower back, they couldn't very well spend the day there.

And, while the Commander was affectionately furled against him, a feeling he would never tire of, he was quite certain that the brunet wasn't sleeping for the sake of needing it. Granted, the young man had several days worth of sleep to catch up on, but that lithe body seemed able to run on just a scant few hours every couple days, so Squall probably wouldn't like it if he let them both just sit around while the day slipped by.

"Seifer said that?" Irvine questioned.

Quistis had called the gunman into her office, or Squall's office, or whoever was acting as the overseer of Garden's academic affairs for the day. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to have mentioned anything about what happened in Dollet. Squall had asked him not to tell the others, or at least he knew that's what the Commander wanted.

However, it seemed that word of Epson's death had reached the Head Instructor's ears and she was more than capable of putting each piece together. What surprised him though was that according to her conversation with Seifer, the knight made it sound as though he hadn't been involved.

Being questioned on what happened, the light haired young woman asked him what he'd seen.

Violet eyes were narrowed while in inner debate. 'Did Almasy do it on purpose?' he wondered. Perhaps he was giving the knight too much credit in thinking that the guy might not be so bad after all. The cocky blond probably just thought he would have been commended for the effort.

But, judging from Quistis' outrage over it, he'd say Seifer would have had to have known that no one would be giving him a pat on the back. Though, after being right there in the same room and finding Squall chained to the bed, he was rather happy to hear of the gruesome fate that Epson had met.

Seifer was a smart guy, beneath a whole lot of wooly exterior. Putting aside his current personal issues with the man who'd swooped in and taken Squall, he had to admit that the knight had probably been completely competent of the situation. Seifer had covered for him, taking full responsibility and all the blame.

The gunman furrowed his brows. 'Wait, blame?' Why was this a bad thing again? "Quistis, what I saw doesn't matter. Seifer did the right thing," he stated with a perplexed tone.

"Right thing?" the Head Instructor questioned incredulously. "Irvine, he killed man in cold blood, there is nothing right about it."

Pointing to a file atop the glossy wooden desk, a police report containing information on the crime, Irvine defended, "That bastard was the guy we've been after the whole time." It suddenly infuriated him that after running around Dollet in a frenzy, as panicked as the knight he'd been partnered with, the ordeal was now considered to be some terrible crime on their part. "Quisty, what happened is over with, Squall doesn't want to make a bigger deal out of it, and when he gets like that you can't change anything. The police won't care, not even Hollow's Knights are likely to retaliate. Let it go, please."

Clear blue eyes searched violet ones for a moment. "Bah, I give up!" she cried, dramatically throwing her hands into the air. "You two always gang up on me. Fine, I'll drop it, but know this Irvine Kinneas," she pointed her finger up at him, "If Selphie wants you tap dancing this year, then you're going to do it."

With wide eyes, Irvine swiftly fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around the instructor's slim waist. He implored, "No, not that, anything but that."

"Well maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to go around and becoming involved in killing mob bosses," she chastised.

"But, it was Squall's stalker," he pleaded in defense.

"And yet somehow, I remained uninformed of the entire situation," she tried to unclasped the gunman's hands. "Where's your hat?" she asked abruptly, looking down upon the man's auburn hair.

"Oh it was horrible, horrible I tell you," he mocked hysterically, glad that the young woman had conceded in the matter and would drop it.

"I'm sure," she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Upon the unmistakable groping to her butt, she swatted the womanizer on his head, "Irvine Kinneas! I'll make the suggestion to Selphie myself if you cop another feel."

Chuckling softly, he released his hold. Winking up at the slightly flushed instructor, he stood up to his full height. "Come on Quisty, you can't wear that tight skirt and expect me not to."

"I can see why Selphie continues to make you sleep on the couch," she shot back.

Sighing heavily, Irvine tossed his tail of hair over his shoulder. "Alas my love, she makes me sleep there for more reasons that just that," he spoke cryptically.

Between him and Selphie, they had a unique relationship. While he'd become a bit more serious in his affections for the happy girl, she refused his hand on the basis that he was far from boyfriend material. So, while he carried on, slowly changing, they remained friends. He supposed there might be a day when they could settle down together, but Selphie was right about him. He still felt unable to control his urges to ogle every swaying set of hips and swelling bosom in sight. Squall was at the top of his list right now, and he was struggling with his own issues because of it. But, like a true friend, Selphie didn't ridicule him, but sympathized and even offered to make duplicates of the pictures she'd given to Zell.

One of these days he was going to fall in love with Selphie, he just knew it.

"If that's all you have to say, then you can leave," Quistis sighed, growing weary of the gunman's antics.

The knock at the door caught both their attentions.

Frowning, Quistis glanced back at the intercom on the desk. The secretary should have buzzed her before allowing anyone to enter of their own accord. And, if it were Squall, then he wouldn't have knocked.

"Come in," she stated, giving the gunman a small shrug when he gave her a questioning look.

Meekly, the door cracked open. Stepping in and giving a small bow, the first words spoken were, "I'm so sorry."

"Rinoa?" both Irvine and Quistis intoned together.

The raven-haired girl straightened up and gave an unsure smile. "I'm really sorry about just leaving like that. I didn't mean to cause you guys trouble."

At a loss for words, Quistis wracked her brain. This didn't seem like something that concerned her. While Squall's previously overstressed conditioned had been her concern, the affair with finding Rinoa had always seemed more of a personal matter, even if it did include the use of SeeD cadets.

"Heard you moved to Dollet," Irvine drawled, a bit more perceptive on the situation between Squall and the dark haired girl. "It might have been nice to have known you were still alive," he commented wryly, unable to suppress the annoyance he felt on Squall's behalf.

"I know," Rinoa said, stepping further in. "I- I don't know what more I can say, other than I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking when I did it, I just had to leave, and it was easier not to think about any of it once I was gone."

"What happened?" Quistis asked with concern. Squall hadn't mentioned anything other than Rinoa was safe and sound, and from that point she hadn't thought to question him on it. But, with the younger girl standing there apologizing and speaking as though she'd fled Garden like some refugee, she became concerned that something had happened.

"I can't really explain it just now. I came to see Squall, but his secretary said he wasn't in, and then after what Seifer told me, I thought I owed you an apology, so I just stopped by for that." As if realizing how her words might be taken she quickly added, "I really am sorry, but I have to find Squall, is he in his dorm?"

"Yeah, he should be…." Quistis said, not sure what was going on or if she should be allowing Rinoa to waltz into Garden like always.

"I'll take you," Irvine offered, striding forth.

"I know the way," Rinoa responded sheepishly.

Not missing a beat, Irvine said evenly, "Yeah, but I have a few things to talk to you about."

"Oh," the raven-haired girl commented a bit wary.

Quistis watched as the two left. "What is going on?" she muttered to herself.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

One Step Closer

"Come on, it's not that noticeable," Seifer assured, his voice drifting in from the entryway. Stubborn was an understatement when describing Squall.

After leaving his bandage in the corridor outside the Training Center, he was unable to find it again. "I'm putting another bandage on it," Squall affirmed for the fifth time since they'd left the locker room. With a hand clasped to his throat, he'd done his best to appear as inconspicuous as possible during their trek to his apartment.

"I'll just make another," Seifer retorted, deftly pulling the lace on his boot to untie it.

Squall balanced against the wall as he took his boots off. While he was usually just slipping out of them or pulling them on, there was no rush. Casting a glare at the mumbling knight he swat the hand that pinched his ass. "If I let you," he growled back.

"Don't get prude on me now Leonhart, not when you're getting so damn good," Seifer said with a grin. Swiftly, he hooked an arm around the smaller man's waist. Turning Squall about, he held him up against his body. With no immediate protests against his manhandling, he felt encouraged to move further in and perhaps fool around a little. Lowering one arm to hook under the brunet's shapely bottom, he lifted the lighter man off the ground. He briefly wondered if it was healthy for Squall to be so light.

"I can walk," Squall pointed out, his feet hovering off the floor. However, his words didn't match his actions as he wrapped his arms around the tan knight's neck. His lips remained a hair's breadth away from Seifer's, taunting the man and vying for control. He almost laughed when the gripping arms tightened at his teasing.

"Not when I get done with you," Seifer joked. He honestly couldn't see himself going that far with Squall so soon, but that didn't mean their time had to be any less enjoyable together. Taking the bait, he gave an annoyed grunt before crushing his lips to Squall's. The brunet hadn't quite been ready, but the action was returned promptly.

Seifer wasn't even sure if his steps were in the right direction, he was too consumed by the sweet taste of that wet mouth. When Squall pulled back slightly and sucked on his tongue, he very nearly dropped the brunet.

A hand ran up Squall's shirt, caressing the smooth flesh. He realized he wouldn't be able to multi-task with such a distraction as the Commander kissing him like that. Halting at where he thought the kitchen's eating counter was, he let Squall slide down agonizingly slow to the floor, never breaking away.

The stools were an obstacle, but he gracefully rectified that as he shoved them out of the way. As a couple of the stools clattered to the ground, he grabbed Squall's hips and placed him atop the counter, only leaving those lips for a moment.

With a lingering hand on the brunet's knee, he stepped between parted legs and continued to ravish the man. This time, all his attention was focused, and the experience was all the better for it.

Sadly, his enjoyment was short lived, as a screeching cry pierced his ears.

Hanging his head dejectedly, Seifer took a moment for self-pity. Was it too much to ask for, just a few days of uninterrupted sessions with Squall? Hadn't they been interrupted enough? From the brat, to the cowboy, to limited amounts of time. After fourteen years of fighting, didn't they deserve another decade or so of mind-blowing sex?

Though Squall's legs stiffened, he refused to step back and let the brunet compose himself. As if making a proud display of what'd he'd been after, Seifer turned around, never leaving his place between those slim legs.

Recognizing that voice, the blond was on a possessive guard immediately. Before Squall could move away, the last resort being to either push passed him or go backwards into the kitchen, Seifer wrapped an arm around the pale boy's slim waist. Holding Squall close, Seifer raised his chin slightly in a defiant air. Glaring at the stricken young woman, he waited.

Rinoa stood stock-still, staring in disbelief. Unable to utter proper words, she spoke the only sound that her lips would help her voice form. "Sq-quall?" she questioned, moving for the first time, only to straighten her stance.

"Rinoa?" Squall questioned back, his tone incredulous. Futilely he tried to shift down from the countertop. "Seifer," he hissed out in a low tone of warning.

Narrowing his green eyes at the raven-haired girl, who had yet to look at him, Seifer refused to release his hold. Knowing where his actions would lead him, Seifer compromised by bringing Squall down from the counter. With his arm still firmly in place, he allowed Squall to stand, but only while pressed to his side. His behavior might earn him a black eye or a week of abstinence from Squall, but he didn't care, so long as it was crystal clear that the Commander was with him now.

Dark brows creased closer as Rinoa surveyed the scene. "I thought… I came here to…." She was at a loss of what to say. Now, all of Irvine's little innuendos made sense. The gunman's voice echoed in her mind, 'You'll have to get in line if you want Squall back.'. She'd been waiting, watching the TV, surprised at the number of channels, when suddenly the pair came in.

She had learned that Seifer was acting as Squall's bodyguard, so it hadn't surprised her to hear them together. Though she had been initially surprised that they could stand to be near each other without killing one another, she'd figured it had something to do with a soldier's duty, or some nonsense like putting aside differences for the greater good. As expected, their voices had filtered through with an arguing tone that had often been described to her by the others.

She'd turned the TV off, and shifted to give them a warm greeting, hoping to melt the ice left after their last meeting. But, what she'd expected to happen and what actually took place were on opposite ends of the event spectrum.

Her first sight had been of Seifer Almasy, her first boyfriend, groping and kissing _Squall_, the second man she'd ever fallen in love with. Perhaps the most shocking and mind numbing observation came when they were so involved that her presence was completely overlooked. Not to mention, she'd never kissed either man like _that_.

Shocked beyond speech, she'd watched in wide-eyed awe as the two gruffly lost themselves. She couldn't even tell whose tongue was in whose mouth, there could no mistaking the intent behind it. Not some dare that the others might have set up, not some innocent little experiment.

The breaking point had been when they seemed more than ready to go even further. Crying out for them to stop, she watched, as Seifer seemed to regard her as some sort of perilous threat. Vaguely, she noticed that Squall's eyes were a beautiful color blue that she'd never seen before. Had his eyes always been blue?

Unable to think properly, she turned to Squall, for him to provide some explanation for the scene she'd just witnessed.

Embarrassed and confused, Squall didn't know if he should be blushing or asking questions. Having been caught red handed, it would be no use to shrug the blond's hold off. Forget covering his neck, he had to cover Rinoa's mouth.

'Dammit! Why weren't there courses for these things?' Squall wondered when he couldn't find suitable words to fill the silence.

Sensing the younger man's distress, Seifer decided he was better suited to handle the situation. "Do you often break into other people's homes when they're not there?"

Brown eyes shifted to stare at the blond knight. Though they had broken up on perfectly amicable terms, she detected a cold and rough edge to the tanned man's voice. The same tone that made her feel so small, just like when they'd showed up at the hotel.

Before she could say that the matter was between her and Squall, she suddenly realized why Seifer had remained by the Commander's side when she broke up with him before, and why he stood firmly beside Squall now.

Defensively, Rinoa responded, "I didn't break in, I had the code."

"Yeah, and with nobody home you just sat right down," Seifer retorted. The painful twisting of the skin on the back of his hand told him to behave. Coughing abruptly, he corrected, "Je m'excuse, c'était impoli de ma part. Mais vous voyez, j'aime Leonhart. Il est à moi, et je ne veux pas que vous le salissiez." (_I apologize, that was rude of me. But you see, I love Leonhart. He is mine, and I don't want you messing it up.)_

"Seifer," Squall said softly, looking up at the knight's profile. The arm around him gave a small squeeze in response, but the blond never looked down at him.

Angry, Rinoa managed to catch a few words and Squall's name, but no meaning. While Seifer's tone wasn't aggressive, he'd still attacked her. "You know I hate it when you do that," she huffed in indignation. Seifer was taking deliberate measures to piss her off.

"C'est pour pourquoi je l'ai fait," (_That is why I did it,)_ the ex-knight adeptly responded, the words forming smoothly.

"Stop," Squall said, seeing the anger it caused in Rinoa.

"Leonhart ga daisukidesu yo." (_I **love** Leonhart.) _With a grin, Seifer turned his amused eyes to the startled young woman. He'd always picked on her for giving up on learning French, but he knew well enough that she was fairly fluent in Japanese.

Swallowing, she fought against frustrated tears. Seifer was just being mean and she didn't understand any of it. "What's going on?"

Squall didn't understand why Rinoa seemed so upset at Seifer's words. Although they seemed mockingly polite, the ex-knight hadn't said anything that should be making her cry. Was she just distraught over seeing them together? But, hadn't she broken up with him? Was this just how the public would respond?

"Rinoa, why are you here?" Squall finally asked, hoping his words weren't taken the wrong way.

Brows furrowed, Rinoa felt hurt by Squall's words. Why shouldn't she be here? After all they had been through together, not just her and Squall, but everyone else. It was then she realized he hadn't meant it like that. No, Squall didn't have a very good way with words. In fact, he probably could have conveyed it better through a meaningful gaze. "I came to see you," she replied.

"I thought, after what you said…." he trailed off, his confusion growing exponentially as he recalled her words on that day. She'd pleaded with him to leave, and he had. But, now she was here, and he didn't know why.

Doing her best to push aside what she'd just seen, she explained in clear words that Squall would understand, "When I found out what happened on the news, I was so worried. I never stopped loving you, and after that happened I realized that running away wasn't going to change that. I just got frustrated with it all, I'm not used to people who aren't open about their feelings… and, well, I guess I needed a break from it all. I wanted to apologize and talk things out." If she didn't state her meaning clearly, then the Commander, who was not known for his proficiency in matters of the heart, would not understand.

Seifer's heart was beating faster with each passing moment. Of all the times to start doubting Squall and the relationship he hoped to have, right then was the worst possible moment. Clenching his jaw, his arm held on to the lithe form even tighter. Squall had admitted to not knowing whether he'd been in love with the young sorceress, and Seifer concluded that it wasn't so. But, if he'd been wrong, then this would be the window of opportunity for the Commander to leave.

It wasn't as though he could force Squall to stay with him. Perhaps this whole thing had been some twisted punishment. He finally finds that one love that completely takes him by surprise and consumes him entirely, only to lose it after feeling how good it could be.

Glancing up at Seifer, Squall was a bit shocked to find the man's eyes hurting in anguish. He could see the knight's jaw muscle clenching as though gritting against some pain. Concerned, the brunet turned his attention to the blond. He couldn't read minds, but he could read body language. Raising a hand, he placed it over a broad chest, feeling the fast beat of a heart.

Startled green eyes stared down at him. Frowning, Squall tilted his head while trying to understand. Usually he was better at figuring things out without words, but he was more recently finding that wasn't the case with Seifer.

Seifer watched Squall, the display endearingly cute and making him hurt all the more for it. Perhaps he hadn't considered every aspect of something like this happening. He couldn't knowingly say that Squall was with him for more than sex. After all, they had gotten together at a time when the Commander was stressed out and without his girlfriend. They'd only progressed further after the brunet had been rejected. It sounded like a typical rebound scenario now that he put into a different perspective.

Not only that, but Squall was concerned about the public image. Everyone already knew, and still thought, that Rinoa Heartily was the Commander's girlfriend. It hadn't even mattered that she was a sorceress. She fit the role perfectly. She was a political activist, daughter of General Caraway, hero of the war, and she was a chipper little angel that warmed everyone's heart.

On the other hand, there was him. Seifer Almasy, Ultimecia's knight, arrogant, and known for pissing people off. Not to mention, if he became Squall's boyfriend, that would label the two as gay lovers. The press would have a field day with their relationship, and Squall would never hear the end of it.

Hyne, how could he have been so stupid? It was all staring him right in the face, but he'd ignored it, thinking that if he held onto that slim waist tightly enough it wouldn't matter.

And now, those stark blue eyes looked up at with such concern that he couldn't even relinquish his hopes.

Unable to take that caring look in Squall's eyes any longer, he broke their gaze and turned his head away. He could fight for the Commander's affections all he wanted, but knowing Squall, it would never make a difference once that stubborn mind had chosen.

A dawning understanding came to Squall. 'Idiot,' the younger man mentally called Seifer. 'And he calls me moody,' he thought, scoffing internally at the abrupt change in the knight's demeanor.

Lowering his hand from the taller man's chest, Squall stepped away from the now loosened grip around his waist. Not bothering to watch the blond's reaction to his movement, he felt compelled to speak bluntly. "I've already forgiven you, though you may want to talk with the others. I know there is a reason why people call me the Ice Prince, and I'm sorry that I hurt you. I care about you, and I thought you knew that, without me saying it all the time." Raking a hand through his hair, he took a moment to think over his words before saying them. "I'm not in love with you."

Yes, he was more certain about that fact after vocalizing it. He continued, "I'm honored that you feel that way for me, but I can't return it. As I'm sure you've already noticed, there is someone else in my life." He wondered if he'd said it correctly, there were just too many different ways to misconstrue things like this.

The first of many tears swelling in Rinoa's eyes spilt over, running down her cheek. Too consumed by what was going on, she didn't even notice that she'd begun to cry. "You and _Seifer_ are together?" Her voice was barely higher than a whisper.

"Yes," Squall confirmed.

Hiccupping, she spoke through the first sob that tried to convulse her chest, "Romantically?" she questioned, knowing the answer and feeling rather dumb for asking, but still needing to hear it spoken aloud.

"Yes," Squall confirmed again.

A soft chuckle escaped her as she replayed the image of the two of them going at it only a few minutes ago. She felt hurt on so many different levels. She knew what she'd done, leaving Squall like that, had been wrong, but he also held some fault. Never opening up to her hurt deeply, and that was why she ran. Then, she finds out that he moved on in the time frame of a few days. She couldn't help but thinking that Squall had never felt anything for her to begin with and she'd just been strung along. He certainly never kissed her like that, which only affirmed her theory that he'd never felt anything in the first place.

She didn't know which hurt more, being with the Commander and not being able to break that icy exterior _or_ finding out that it wasn't because Squall was unreachable, but that she was the one who couldn't get through.

It was common knowledge among the band of war heroes, that Seifer and Squall had a past together. However, no one had told her that they weren't really enemies, but lovers. Such a piece of information might have come in handy when trying to become Squall's lover herself. "You were gay?" she asked, not having the foresight to keep some things to herself.

Not fazed by the question, Squall answered, "No"

"But, you're involved with another man?" she spat incredulously. The last thing she needed now was to be patronized. She was not some fool to be deceived any longer.

Looking her directly in the eyes, he held her gaze firmly. "Gender is a trivial matter," he stated soundly.

"Don't lie to me!" she shouted, unable to control her emotions.

Not looking away, Squall said calmly, "I've never lied to you."

"You have," she sobbed, "Our whole relationship was a lie. You loving me was a lie!"

Blinking, Squall retreated, stung by her words. "I never said I loved you," he spoke just loud enough for her to hear across the room. It was true, he hadn't ever professed such an emotion to her.

Like a jolting slap, he became aware that there truly was a part of him missing. It had never bothered him before, for the simple fact that he'd never really thought about it. Love, what was it and why did anyone need it? According to the stories from people and books, it clouded the mind and made people do unreasonable and uncharacteristic things. If he was a mercenary, love was something he should avoid.

An attachment of deep meaning could be used against a SeeD. That was logical. But, he had never really been against it. It hadn't mattered to him, and so he'd been completely ambivalent to it.

However, now he was finding himself incapable of it. Cold and heartless, he truly was an Ice Prince. Perhaps all his emotions were fake, just constructed from his logical side, to make him pass for a normal human being. But, how could anyone tell the difference between an emotion and the brain's conceptual creation of an emotion.

Not wanting to think about, Squall tried to push it aside. For now, he would take relief in believing that he was over analyzing everything and creating problems where there were none. He would take relief in the belief that he did feel emotions, and he could fall in love as easily as anyone else, it just hadn't happened yet.

A firm hand on his shoulder snapped him away from his internal reverie, effectively pushing his thoughts down.

Seifer had watched and listened. It took every bit of willpower not to interfere. He so desperately wanted to ignore everything and just pull Squall to him and never let go. It might have worked, if it were anyone other than the stubborn Commander. Doing that with Squall would ensure the brunet would refuse him just to prove independence.

When the lips he loved to touch formed those sweet words, he nearly broke out in a victory dance. Squall not only chose him, but stated that he'd never loved her.

Forgetting his previous insecurities, he was encouraged to become Squall's first love. He'd turn the brunet's head so far around that there would be no going back, no being with anyone but him.

Reaching out, he gripped a slender shoulder, letting the warmth send a shiver of delight through his body. Stepping closer, he drew Squall against him, wrapping his arms around the brunet's torso. Burying his face into the soft mop of hair, he gave a small kiss to the top of the brunet's head.

Grinning impishly, Seifer turned his attention to the raven-haired girl. Winking, his green eyes sparkled with the winning of an unofficial battle. "Boys will be boys," he stated smoothly, never ceasing his cocky grin.

There was a part of Seifer that sympathized with Rinoa, seeing those tears and knowing exactly what she'd lost. But, in the long run, she would heal and move on, and be more mature for the experience. Sometimes a 'sorry and I promise not to do it again' just didn't work. And sometimes, there were people who could not be swayed by a constant smile and cheerful attitude. They would have been miserable together. She'd run from that misery in the first place. Coming back after a short break didn't change anything.

As Rinoa fled the room, Seifer held fast to the brunet in his arms, feeling the body tense and make ready to follow.

"Let her go," the blond whispered into the Commander's ear.

Squall started to object, "But-"

"No, she needs time to herself, and I know you understand that," he admonished.

"Hai," (_Yes_) Squall whispered softly, falling further into the embrace.

Resting a cheek on the brunet's head, Seifer couldn't rid himself of the grin that pulled his lips upwards. "Nihongo wa hanshimasu ka?" (_You speak Japanese?_)

"Baka, we took all the same classes. Je peux parler français aussi." (_Idiot_, we took all the same classes. _I can speak French too_.)

"Well, it wasn't a secret anyway," Seifer conceded, wishing their class schedules had been exactly the same, then they could have competed on every level.

"You were being childish," Squall huffed.

"Peut-être," (_Maybe_,) he admitted. But, making people upset was what he was good at.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Like a Married Mercenary Couple

The door slid open smoothly, allowing Quistis to enter Squall's apartment. It was similar to her own, as well the other instructors' more distinguished living spaces. Though, the Commander didn't seem to have decorated in the least.

Stepping in, her knee high boot heals clicking on the tiled flooring, she sniffed the air. With a smile she realized that Squall was cooking, which was always a good thing.

In her arms, cradled gently, was a complacent black cat. She honestly didn't know why the animal stuck around. Having come from Timber's back alleys, she was surprised the feline had a domestic side. Though, having the run of an entire Garden was hardly domestic, Gabriel always returned to the Commander's apartment. There were times when the creature had been found sitting on the secretary's desk outside the Headmaster's office, waiting to be let in. That usually happened when Squall failed to take a long enough break to go back to his apartment, and ended up spending several days at a time cooped up with paperwork.

When Gabriel didn't seem to have any intention of leaving her hold, she set the cat down. Bright yellow eyes stared at her before he scampered towards the kitchen. She chuckled to herself. That cat was becoming spoiled. Always wandering to the cafeteria, he could find food from both Greta and every other student eating there.

Sitting down, she unzipped her boots and set them aside before leaving the entryway and pattering across the wooden floor. Taking a seat on one of the stools, she propped her elbows on the counter and rest her head in her hands.

Squall hardly spared Gabriel a glance, only greeting the cat long enough for a quick pet on the head and to tell him to leave the kitchen. "You've already eaten, out of the kitchen." Surprisingly, the creature complied.

Quistis remained interested simply in watching Squall for a few more moments. Leaning over slightly, she tried to peer into the simmering pan on the stove. Whatever it was, it smelled really good, especially since she'd skipped lunch that day.

It had been an extremely long day for the Head Instructor. In fact, the passed few days had been overwhelmingly stressful. Acting as Headmistress was seriously tiring, and no matter how many times she reaffirmed her determination, by the time she went back to her apartment, she was ready to collapse and call it quits. She couldn't fathom how Squall had done it. Taking on so much responsibility without any help, and managing it all for a solid six months.

She actually had an appointment with Dr. Kadowaki to have her eyes checked out. She needed glasses for distances, but after reading all that finely printed paperwork, not to mention the mountain of books used as reference material, she was afraid she now needed bifocals. No woman at nineteen should need bifocals, it made her feel old.

By the time Rinoa had showed up in her office, she'd been ready to snap. It was all she could do not to storm out on the sobbing girl and decide to call in all her vacation time. However, upon forcing herself to listen to the dark haired girl, she found her attention captured regardless of her weary state.

By the time she'd absorbed the information, her mind had been in a bit of a daze. Unable to take Rinoa's word on any of it, she decided to see Squall. If she asked nicely, and didn't make it seem like the answer held any great importance, then the Commander might be willing to divulge some of the personal information.

When Squall continued to ignore her presence, she commented, "You should know who you're letting in before you say they can enter."

Drying his hands on a dishtowel, Squall didn't bother to look at her while going about his work. Setting another pan on the stove and turning the dial on with a small ticking sound, he replied, "The only people that I will allow in are the same people who have the code. Unless you're implying that Zell, Irvine, or Selphie are dangerous." Having seen the tired expression on Quistis' face, he felt compelled to make up for putting so much strain on her. "I can't remember, do you prefer chocolate or vanilla pudding?"

Blinking in quick succession, Quistis straightened up. "Pudding?" she questioned, slightly hopeful.

"For dessert," Squall supplied, doing his best to maintain an impassive expression. Zell had hotdogs, and Quistis had pudding. If he were to venture a guess, he'd say that after acting as Headmistress, she hadn't had much time to enjoy any meals. But, after today, that would all change. He wasn't going to continue to put her through any more stress by taking his place.

Remembering why she came in the first place, Quistis schooled her expression and replied nonchalantly, "Vanilla is always a good choice." Though the unspoken invitation to dinner was a rather nice end to her day.

Unable to fight back a smirk, Squall abruptly turned his back to the instructor. Easily excusing the movement, he made to get something out of the fridge.

"Rinoa came to see me today," Quistis said smoothly.

Not responding, Squall selected a bottle of water. To his dismay, his refrigerator was stocked with food, a sight that had yet to become normal.

Taking her glasses off, Quistis stored them atop her head. "She was quite upset." She was trying to test the waters. It was difficult to know what was off limits when Squall never seemed inclined to talk about anything. Though she could only guess, she'd say it was common sense that the subject she was about to broach was not something the introverted boy would like to discuss openly.

Nodding, Squall recalled the manner in which Rinoa had fled from the apartment. The chicken stir-fry was nearly done, so he went about starting dessert, his water left unopened on the counter. Even if he knew where Quistis was heading with this conversation, he wouldn't turn her away.

The instructor thought for a moment, wondering which angle to start with. "I like Rinoa, she's a sweet girl," she began, watching for some reaction.

Squall simply searched through the cupboard, trying to find an instant pudding packet. He thought he remembered seeing one in there awhile back, unless Selphie got to it. He wasn't postponing the impending questions Quistis was sure to ask him, he just didn't want to make it seem like it was a big deal. However, his stomach did feel rather nervous.

He could lie to her, and she would take his word on the matter, he knew this without a doubt. If Quistis had been easily swayed by rumors, they would have had this sort of conversation on many occasions, involving many different scandals and misconstrued quotes. The only reason the Head Instructor was approaching him now was because her source of the _rumor_ had been legitimate.

Sighing, Quistis slouched. Playing these games, the tip toeing around the real questions she wanted to ask, was not something she enjoyed. She preferred to be direct, but how could she be direct with something like this. Besides, if she didn't ask Squall straight out, then she wouldn't receive a straight answer, which meant she could hold off on learning that there was truth to Rinoa's words.

She hadn't even begun to consider the matter in realistic terms. In her head, she couldn't say whether it would be good or bad, since she was still in disbelief. The entire day had been full of revelations, none of which would comfort her in her sleep.

"She's sweet, but childish," she smiled at the faltering of Squall's searching hands that were shuffling through various items within a top cupboard. "I told her that a long time ago, when we were at Caraway's mansion, on the mission. Do you remember that?"

"I was in the clock tower," Squall reminded.

"Oh, that's right. Well, anyway, she had been arguing with her dad. The way she acted around General Caraway was reminiscent of a spoiled brat. It made us all feel like we were being used for some family feud. I'm afraid I lost my cool and told her off."

Finding the small cardboard pack, Squall brought it out from the back of the shelf. He was pleased to see that it was vanilla, since it had been the only one in there. "Did you ever consider that she might just be acting her age, and we're the ones who grew up too fast?" Squall asked solemnly.

Crystal blue eyes widened at the brunet's words. Why was Squall such a mystery to them? No matter how much she analyzed the young man, he remained among the unknown anomalies to her. It was hard to remember him as a small child, lost and alone. Squally and Commander Leonhart were like two completely different people. As an after thought she mused aloud, "I suppose you two were never really a good match. But, even I thought that how you are now wasn't the real you… it was hard to tell."

Setting the package down, half of the top opened, Squall regarded Quistis seriously. "I've always been the same person. I haven't changed."

"But, you have, you've changed so much," she spoke, her voice full of emotion.

"No," Squall cut in firmly. "The circumstances have changed, not me."

"Squall, it's not a bad thing. It just took us a while to realize that being isolated and quiet is your way now. We, or at least I, thought that with Rinoa around, you would be like you were before. But, we love you no matter how you are."

Clenching his fist, Squall frowned. There it was again, _that _word. Love. With bitterness in his voice he spoke coldly, "I haven't changed."

"Squall-"

"No," he cut off. "The time and circumstances have changed. I've always been as I am before you now. The Ice Prince has been my nickname for as long as I can remember. I know how you felt after the war. No longer an orphan, surrounded by friends, you thought I should be smiling and laughing with everyone else. I never smiled or laughed, but things like that only become noticeable when it's expected." Looking Quistis in the eyes, he urged, "Tell me _Quisty_, was I supposed to smile and laugh when we were left behind? Was I supposed to be glad that we found a home in Balamb Garden?"

Shocked, Quistis sat still as Squall's words echoed in her head. "Who's _we?_" she questioned after a moment. Interestingly, gray-blue eyes widened with their own shock, and Squall's eyes fell to the floor.

"I meant-" Squall began to rectify, but was cut off.

"You _meant _Seifer, didn't you?" she asked, wishing she hadn't spoke so rashly, since her tone seemed to sound accusing.

Unable to refute the sharp woman's solid intuition, Squall opted for giving no response. Neither admitting nor denying. It had been a slip of the tongue, or rather mind, since he hadn't even known he'd said it. But, her words had rubbed salt into already open wounds. His response had been an uncharacteristic moment of speaking without thinking first.

"Where's Seifer?" she asked, hoping to redeem herself and not make the brunet retreat any further.

Shaking choppy strands of hair, Squall answered, "I don't know." His tone conveyed his wishes to end their conversation, but he knew the instructor's stubbornness could rival his own when her mind was set.

Surprised by this, Quistis questioned further, "How long ago did he leave?" Knowing that Seifer had been adhering strictly to their contract, she was more than grateful for this window of opportunity. The blond had seemed inseparable from his charge, and while this was all stated in the contract, she hadn't warranted twenty-four hour surveillance. Knowing how the pair might be liable to kill each other, she'd been astounded by the cooperation on it all. Although, she now had a different view on what might have been encouraging the civility.

"An hour, a little more, actually," the brunet said, casting a glance to the clock in the living room. A quick look to the older girl's face told him that she wasn't going to give up until she knew more. "He needed to see someone, he wouldn't tell me what about." He didn't like where any of this was going, but he couldn't stop it. It was inevitable, especially since Quistis seemed to already know something.

Nodding, Quistis decided that right then was as good a time as she was likely to get. "Speaking of Seifer, Rinoa threw a few accusations at me about him."

Expressionless, Squall didn't seem to be showing any signs of listening, but she continued regardless, "She seemed to think that I should have told her about the fact that you and Seifer had been _involved._"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Squall gave a sigh and leaned against the counter top adjacent to the one in front of the instructor. "I'm surprised at how easily a situation can be misinterpreted," he finally spoke softly.

With a small smile, Quistis let out a long breath of relief. So, it had all been one big and extremely odd misunderstanding. Though, she was curious how much of what Rinoa retold had been truth and how much an exaggeration, and where the misinterpretation began.

Silently cursing that he was the one having to do all the explaining, Squall vowed that if everyone were going to find out, then Seifer would be breaking the news the next time. On second thought, that was a bad idea. He could just picture Seifer proudly telling stories of their times together, he'd never live that down.

Shaking his head, ridding himself of the mental image of the blond knight going around and spouting off declarations of love, Squall decided to just pull the Band-Aid off quickly. "If by _involved_ you mean screwing each other," he let his vulgar phrasing express his dislike for the topic, "Then Seifer and I were never _involved_ before."

"Before?" Quistis questioned meekly, wanting to find a hole to crawl into.

With a surfacing anger, recalling the negative way in which his relationship with Seifer was looked upon, Squall became defensive. "Since his return, which I have you to thank for, Seifer and I have been very much _involved._"

Before Quistis could even think to reply, a baritone voice called in from the doorway.

"Squall!" Seifer's voice called in, "I'm sorry about the apron, but I got you a new one."

Blinking in confusion, it took the instructor a moment to realize that the knight was referring to something that she had no idea about. Looking at Squall, she realized something she hadn't noticed before. The brunet was cooking without his black apron. Though she usually didn't study him while he cooked, she hadn't recalled a time when the young man had done so without that smock-like apron. A gift from Rinoa, or so she'd been told.

As Seifer made his way to the kitchen, he spared the Head Instructor an automated greeting, "Hey Trepe."

Carrying a rectangular box, the sort that might contain a shirt or pair of pants, the knight entered the kitchen. Holding the white cardboard box out, Seifer presented it as some sort of offering.

Baffled, Quistis simply sat there and watched. The frown on Squall's face told her that the Commander was not at all pleased.

Squall glared at the tall knight suspiciously. He truthfully hadn't known where Seifer had gone off.

Before the knight had left, they'd had a bit of a fight. Before starting dinner, he'd put on the black apron like he always did. Rinoa had given it to him for a reason, he tended to be a bit messy and managed to get ingredients all over his clothes even if the counters remained spotless.

Apparently, Seifer remembered who had given him the accessory and thrown a fit. Like a child, Seifer demanded that he get rid of it. Naturally, he'd refused, if only to go against the blond.

What was apparently a lover's quarrel, the likes of which was unique to fighters such as themselves, ended with his apron in shreds and pair huffing after a scuffle.

Shortly after that, Seifer had become uncommonly solemn, though it might have been because he'd given the blond the silent treatment. The next thing he knew, the pushy man was saying he had to see someone real quick and would be back soon.

Now, Seifer had returned, announcing that a replacement had been obtained.

Warily, Squall snatched the box from Seifer. Still glaring, he refused to speak and end the silent treatment. Cautiously, he opened the top.

Quistis watched avidly, wondering why Squall was treating the box like it was a bomb. When the brunet lifted the lid a crack, and then promptly shut it with narrowed gray eyes, she became absorbed into the entire display.

"That's not funny," Squall stated, though breaking his silence towards the blond, he tried to make it sound as though he were talking to someone else.

"Eh?" Seifer intoned incredulously, carrying an over exaggerated tone of hurt. "I thought you'd like it." He feigned crushed feelings by looking dejectedly towards the ground, his eyes held an unmistakable humorous sparkle though, giving him away.

"Throw it away," Squall said firmly. He didn't even want something like that in his apartment.

"No," Seifer said, grabbing the box from the brunet. "Come on, wear it for me," he pleaded.

Disbelief registered across the Commander's face. With raised eyes brows the brunet questioned, "You're serious?"

"I won't take pictures if you don't want me to," Seifer offered, reaching into his pocket and pulling a camera out.

Blinking, Squall continued to stare in disbelief. "You're delusional."

"Just once, come on Leonhart, it'll be cute," the blond pressed on, taking a step closer.

The Head Instructor found her eyes fixed on the concealing white box, trying to see through the cardboard exterior. When Squall took a defensive step back, she registered that the Commander seemed about ready to flee. She wasn't sure what, if anything, she should do. It didn't seem as though either man knew she was still there.

Squall cursed that he was in such a bad position. Seifer's broad form blocked the kitchen's entryway. He had a sinking feeling that another scuffle was on its way, only this time, instead of pulling something off, it would involve forcing something on.

Never taking his eyes from the arrogant man's green ones, Squall wondered if he might be able to make a jump for the counter of the kitchen's nook where Quistis sat.

"You can't make me wear it," Squall reasoned, reaching for the humane side of the knight. He could deal with gruff fondling, in fact he quite enjoyed that, and he could even deal with a few of the blond's other pushy tendencies. However, there was a line he would not let the knight cross. He would _not _wear that… that thing.

A playful smirk spread across Seifer's face. "Call it a practical joke," he excused.

Narrowing his eyes, Squall swiftly acted. Knocking the camera from the larger man's hand, he created a distraction and ensured that if the outcome were to his loss, then there would be no lasting evidence. Taking his window of opportunity, Squall ducked passed Seifer, scurrying for the open entrance.

Though speed was always his advantage, the close range canceled that. A firm, though not too rough, arm snagged around his waist. Even in the middle of his rushed steps, Seifer held enough strength to easily pull him back.

As much as Squall wanted to seriously fight back, he couldn't. At least, not until Seifer did first. As he struggled free, deftly slipping away and using his knowledge of fighting to waylay capture, Squall never struck back. The damn blond wasn't even using any real force, and he couldn't bring himself to escalate the situation to a serious battle.

Growling in frustration, he felt resigned to the fact that unless he took it seriously, he wouldn't be able to get away.

Quistis stood frozen. The moment Squall had made a run for it, she'd made ready to help out, but upon watching their fight unfold she'd held back. They weren't really fighting. It was the oddest thing she'd ever witnessed.

A blush crept to her cheeks as she realized what she was seeing. This was exactly the sort of lover's quarrel she would imagine the two having, if they were ever… involved. Unable to find an appropriate way of reacting, she settled for standing still and watching. As the two exchanged a few punches, never landing on the intended mark, she found herself harboring amusement. It would seem Gabriel shared her feelings, as the cat jumped up onto the counter. Yellow eyes were fixed on the scene as a black tail swished back and forth.

Eventually, the two wound up falling over one another. With the box dropped, the contents were effectively revealed. Strewn in a crumpled pile was a frilly pink apron, with what Quistis thought were little hearts all over it, but it might have been red polka dots.

Pinned beneath the blond knight, Squall spared the ridiculous waste of cloth lying on the floor nearby. Showing his distain for the hideous garment, he glared daggers at it. Turning his attention to a more than amused and cocky man above him, he narrowed his eyes.

As Seifer raised his arms above his head, holding his wrists together, he warned, "Seifer, don't."

"For a price," the blond teased, ceasing the hand that reached out for the apron. Before Squall could protest further he stated his demand, "A kiss"

"We have company," Squall hissed out, wanting to knee the man in the stomach for his pushy behavior.

"Sometimes having an audience makes it better," the blond reasoned with a shrug. The moment he'd seen Trepe, he knew why the woman was there. It would be no use hiding their relationship from the tightly knit group of fighters.

Clenching his jaw, Squall saw the manner in which Seifer's eyes now gleamed. The blond was being serious now. With a sigh, he conceded. After admitting to being in a relationship with the knight, what difference did it make to show a gesture of it?

Grinning, Seifer swiftly dipped his head down to lay claim on Squall's lips.

Red faced, Quistis couldn't have felt more uncomfortable.

At the licking of Seifer's tongue, Squall seemed to forget himself, and all watching eyes. Parting his lips, he eagerly welcomed the exploring appendage. A soft moan escaped him, which was swallowed by Seifer.

Quistis had been wrong, she could definitely feel more uncomfortable. Nearing a nosebleed, she cleared her throat.

Unaffected by anything but each other, the two carried on.

Covering her face with hands that felt cold, Quistis remained standing. She couldn't decide whether to make a hasty exit or throw something at the unrestrained pair. As another moan filled the air, she parted her fingers to see what was happening.

Between embarrassment and a ridiculous arousal at the scene, which she wouldn't openly admit to, Quistis found her voice. "Hey!" she shouted, not sure what to do if that didn't work.

Lapping at slick lips, Seifer grinned, wondering what sort of face Trepe would have after seeing such an enticing and arousing display of lust on the Commander's part. Granted, he'd shown the same reaction, but that wasn't necessarily out character for him.

As Squall rest his head limply against the tiled floor, catching his breath, he suddenly remembered where he was and who was watching. A heated blush graced his cheeks. When Seifer moved off of him, he scrambled to sit up.

Green eyes watched the red tinge flood pale cheeks like a rouge application of makeup. Giving the brunet some sanctuary and a moment to collect dazed thoughts, Seifer pulled the Squall against his chest, shielding the smaller man from view. He whispered, "Like I said, it'll be cute."

"I'm going to use the bathroom," Quistis announced before hastily rushing off.

Gabriel remained, fury ears twitching at the noise of a closing door.

At the sound of the bathroom door closing with a loud thud, Seifer broke out into a fit of laughter. Holding onto Squall as his frame shook with amusement, he nearly lost his balance.

It wasn't until the painful blow to his eye that his laughter was stopped. Grunting while clutching his eye, he winced at the feel of a bruised bone. However, seeing the infuriated look on Squall's face, he began to laugh again.

When Squall stood up and turned away from him, he admonished, "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it." When no reply came, he tried again, "Squall?"

When the brunet kept his back turned, roughly slamming a pan down on the stovetop, he stood up. "Come on, she already knew, didn't she?"

"That's not the problem," Squall said tersely.

Stepping closer, Seifer warmly wrapped his arms around the Commander's waist. Kissing a slender neck, he apologized, "I'm sorry." Still there was no reaction. Nibbling on an ear, he pleaded, "Please, don't be mad."

Squall rolled his eyes, hating how he could no longer harbor any angry feelings at the blond, not even after such a stunt. "I'm not mad at you," he huffed.

"Oh?" Seifer questioned with interest. Always pushing his luck, he snuck a hand beneath the hem of the brunet's shirt.

"You're not sleeping with me tonight," Squall stated, setting his terms for punishment.

Groaning in frustration, Seifer let his hand fall away from smooth skin. The tone in the brunet's voice left no room for arguing.

"Get the plates out, dinner is ready," Squall ordered.

"Yes sir," Seifer complied, casting a downtrodden glance at the forgotten apron. He hadn't really wanted Squall to try it on. It was a horrendous creation. Still, he'd gotten what he'd really been after. Slowly but surely, more people were finding out about them, thus ensuring that everyone would know the Commander was off limits, and that he was the proud man who was staking claim.

TBC….

A/N I think that each person fluctuated between being in character and out of character, but over all, I'm content with it. I thought it was cute, even if it was kind of random. Anyway, please review.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Trouble Sleeping

The unsettled instructor did not stop splashing her face with cold water until the sound of her glasses clattering into the sink reached her ears.

Turning the tap off, she reached a hand out to retrieve the wire-framed lenses. Setting them on the dark marble counter top that molded to the matching basin, Quistis sighed heavily.

Still in a state of shock, she patted her face dry with a hand towel folded nearby.

The image kept playing before her eyes. Not horrified, but definitely in shock. After constantly being around a distant and aloof Squall, especially after the war, she'd come to believe that it truly was the brunet's true self. A part of her had always believed that there was some underlying reason, a reason for the ice.

As a concerned instructor, spurred on subconsciously by their past together, she'd tried to break through. Squall seemed to have so much promise and potential, a life that could lead him to great things and happiness. There was just something about the young man that made her feel that way, the very moment she'd first seen that bright eyed gaze.

But, to see him so isolated and cut off from the world was frustrating. She was trained to help cadets develop both fighting skills and the ability to mature, to interact with the world beyond Garden walls. And for all her training, she'd failed as an instructor, never reaching Squall.

Then, the war had begun, a sorceress war the likes of which none had seen before. Standing out among all others, Squall shone brightly as some beacon of strength and hope. His personality didn't seem to hinder him in the least, in fact, people seemed to respond to it for some reason. Always staring off pensively, those gray-blue eyes holding a wisdom that even she had to bow down to, the Commander never let them down.

It was surprising to learn that Squall hadn't wanted any of it, to know how much the brunet detested the spotlight, even when he seemed born for it.

She'd thought that it was just that wall, the separating barrier that kept them from getting too close. If they could bring the real Squall out, then being the leader would become something the Commander would enjoy.

The small changes she'd seen in Squall after Rinoa showed up made her believe that Squall was returning to his old self. Though, she couldn't exactly remember Squall never being as he was now. Memories were not the most reliable sources. They could be distorted and taken away, or even imagined. So, while she believed that Squall had been a happy little boy at one point, she honestly couldn't recall hearing any laughter or seeing any smiles. 

When the dust had settled, it became apparent that Squall was either too stubborn to change or simply couldn't.

She hadn't been certain that it wasn't some defensive act until Rinoa had left. While guilt had presented itself within herself, Squall didn't seem to even care that she'd been trying to push for him to change who he was.

And suddenly, Rinoa was back, but Squall was dating Seifer…

When did such drastic changes take place? Hadn't Squall told her that nothing had been going prior to the knight's return? That would mean, less than a week ago.

Seifer Almasy and Squall Leonhart?

Her two most promising students. Garden's most promising students. Both gunblade specialists, both following the same academic path, both containing character flaws that she'd perceived as weaknesses that needed to be fixed, and both archrivals. There had hardly been a single day when the two weren't at each other's throats.

Now the rivals were more than students to her, they were her childhood friends. The professional barrier had been thrown away once she'd stepped down as an instructor. She no longer felt any age gap to anyone else, and was simply a member of their group. But Squall was their leader, and Seifer was the one who had betrayed them and left.

Bearing no grudge, Quistis had relied on the ex-knight's services. It was the same character flaw of over arrogance within the blond that would serve as a tool. No one else had been able to invoke such drastic reactions from the Commander as Seifer had. Even if it was anger, it was more than any of them could manage, even Rinoa.

Musing to herself, Quistis wondered if Squall and Seifer's ludicrous relationship actually made sense. They had always fought, but if anything happened to one of them, the other was their to help. Kadowaki was the only other person who knew just how often the pair of them had wound up in the infirmary, and they were usually together, even if only one of them was injured.

Squall was introverted, only ever coming out of his shell on rare occasions. Yet, those occasions were never rare around Seifer.

There had never been any indications of suppressed feelings in either of the boys, not even when she searched for it specifically.

She couldn't begin to fathom why or how it began, but the attraction seemed to have been more than mutual. She'd never seen Squall so….

Before the Head Instructor could finish that thought she shook her head. It wasn't her business, not unless Squall's was being hurt in some way.

With a small smile, Quistis realized that Squall had actually told her about the relationship directly. It was nice to know that her friendship meant something, or at least be reminded that Squall did view her as someone close enough to be informed.

Knowing as a certainty that she'd never make it through dinner without blushing furiously at least once, she decided to stop stalling.

As she stepped out, she found Seifer setting down a second plate of food on the coffee table before the couch. The chicken stir-fry looked delicious, and the prospect of vanilla pudding was all that kept her from smacking Seifer upside the head for his previous antagonizing.

Seifer straightened up, giving grin to the blonde haired instructor. He could sense more than see the glare Squall was giving him. "Sorry 'bout that Trepe, didn't mean to embarrass you," he apologized.

"I'm sure," Quistis replied coolly. She suddenly felt rather sympathetic for Squall, having to put up with the cocky knight.

Upon moving closer, the young woman noticed some reddened bruising around Seifer's right eye. Unable to contain her amusement at the idea that Squall had punished the blond for bad behavior, she started to laugh.

Green eyes narrowed as Seifer realized what the woman was laughing at. Gesturing to his eye he said, "This is nothing. Squall's not gonna let me fuck him tonight." With his own internal laughter, Seifer watched as Trepe abruptly fell silent and blushed.

"Stop being an ass!" Squall half cried out from the kitchen, where his own blushing cheeks could not be seen. He was only now beginning to realize what he'd gotten himself into. Dealing with Seifer's behavior was going to drive him insane.

"Shit, I bet it's two nights now," the blond whispered barely loud enough for the instructor to hear. 

"Dammit Seifer," Squall cursed. If the sex had been any less gratifying then he would end it all right then.

Mouth slightly agape, Seifer turned to look towards the open doorway to the kitchen. "How'd he hear me?" he thought aloud. Crystal blue eyes blinked a few times before registering where the renewed feeling of amusement was coming from. They were acting like an old married couple. Suppressing her laughter, Quistis cleared her throat. As Squall joined them with a plate of his own, the portions noticeably smaller than either her own or Seifer's, she stated bluntly, "I'm definitely going to need some time to absorb this."

Squall gave a small nod of understanding.

Seifer looked from one SeeD to the other. Judging from the way in which Trepe was acting, he'd say she was probably a closer friend than he'd initially thought. Having had his fun, he would try to earn some brownie points and do the rest of the explaining. "You can imagine that we were a bit thrown by it too," he said while taking a seat on the far end of the dark blue couch.

With a smile of understanding, Quistis looked at it from their perspective. No doubt, that if they hadn't started anything until the knight's recent return, then they had surely been thrown for more than a small surprise. "I can imagine," she commented with underlying mirth. Having nurtured the two as students, she'd been given a better idea than most, of just how much the duo had clashed heads.

She would definitely need time to think about it all and absorb it. With a heavy sigh, she sat down to the hot meal. Not quite the end to her day that she'd been hoping for, she knew that it could have been worse.

Curled up on his side, Squall lay on the snow covered ground. His head was cradled within the Shiva's lap.

Again in the clearing in the woods, the Commander remained silent as his Guardian Force gently stroked his hair. It was an odd comfort that he'd become accustomed to. Shiva had picked up on this and begun to pet the choppy strands the moment he'd allowed her to direct his head into her lap. 

"Are there other attacks aside from Diamond Dust?" Squall asked, his voice resounded through the silent area. With no snowfall or blowing wind, they were placed in the dead of night.

"That is not what truly concerns you my lion," the ageless Guardian's voice responded.

Scowling at the white expanse before his gray-blue eyes, Squall was resigned to Shiva's all knowing senses. "You know then?" he questioned, still too stubborn to give in so easily.

"I know, but not from prying," her ethereal voice assured. Unable to read minds as the lion before her sometimes perceived, she simply knew from experience.

With a sigh, Squall sought her advice. "I don't know what to do. How do I know? How can I tell?"

Smiling lightly, Shiva looked down on the troubled lion. "Tell what?" she asked smoothly.

Sounding a groan of annoyance, Squall was resigned to complying with the woman's way. "I don't know what love is," he stated firmly. "No," he corrected, uncertainty marring the usually confident voice, "I know what it is, but I don't know how to… identify it."

Amused laughter filled the clearing.

Squall frowned in annoyance, shifting to sit up. Glaring at his Guardian, he waited for her laughing to subside.

With a sympathetic glance, which only served to deepen the brunet's frown, Shiva commented, "That's absurd."

"Absurd?" Squall questioned incredulously. He would have been better off seeking Seifer's help after all.

"Of course you can love." Watching the young man's eyes carefully, she explained, "You cannot break it down into a technical meaning. There are no books that can help you, and there is no number of hours that will help with practicing it. You will know when you feel it, but not unless you let yourself go first."

Puzzled, Squall asked, "Haven't I already done that? I'm with Seifer now, how much further can I let myself go?"

More laughter filled the clearing. "You are truly a wonder," she commented through her mirth.

Furrowing his brows, Squall stood up. "Why do I get the feeling that you're not going to offer me any more words of advice?"

"I will, when you've heeded my first suggestion," the guardian replied, standing up to an even height. Her graceful stature was much like Squall's own. Except, her delicate features were hardly ever caught in a scowl or frown.

Looking up, into the starry night sky, Shiva gave a soft sigh. "You have a visitor," she whispered before connecting eyes with the brunet.

Squall mumbled something too low to be heard, and gave a small nod of understanding.

Having slowly drifted back to consciousness, a process that didn't always happen with the flip of a switch, Squall lazily opened his eyes.

The darkness of his bedroom was permeated by moonlit shadows. He immediately began to look for Seifer, but a single glance to the door showed that no one had entered.

Frowning, Squall continued to look around even after he was certain the blond was not there. The fact that he felt disappointed was what stopped him from continuing his search.

Why should he feel disappointed that Seifer wasn't there? After all, hadn't he been the one to strictly tell Seifer to sleep in his own room that night?

The sudden pricking of sharp claws jolted him back to reality. Shiva had said there was a visitor, and she had been right.

Propping himself up on his arms, he stared down sardonically at the dark eyed cat. Yellow irises rimmed the wide pupils, he imagined his own eyes were as dilated in the dark room.

Gabriel sat on his right side, two paws digging into his thigh. Upon glaring down, the animal seemed to realize that claws were no longer needed to wake the sleeping man. Extracting them, which was just as painful as piercing the skin in the first place, the black cat stood on all four limbs and swished its tail.

With a sigh, Squall ran a hand over his sleep hazy face, gruffly rubbing to wake himself up completely. He noticed that the blanket was strewn to the foot of the bed, one side spilling over onto the floor. Judging from a similar state of the sheets beneath himself, he'd say he'd been tossing about quite a bit.

Yawning, he regarded the cat again. "What do you want?" he questioned, knowing Gabriel usually didn't wake him up.

Unable to vocalize an intelligible answer, the small creature turned and padded its way across the bed. Hopping down to the furnished wooden floor, its dark form moved to the door and sat expectantly.

Groaning, Squall swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "If you didn't want to be cooped up then you shouldn't have hidden in my room in the first place," he chastised while standing up.

Holding open the door for Gabriel, Squall yawned again, waiting for the cat to leave. It took him a moment to realize that Gabriel wasn't moving. "Spoiled," Squall cursed at the feline.

Conceding to the cat's demanding ways, the brunet simply left his bedroom door cracked open. If Gabriel wanted to come and go as he pleased, then far be it from him to stand in the spoiled creature's way.

Flopping back down on to the bed, Squall felt as though he hadn't gotten any sleep. He knew that he couldn't go anywhere until at least seven o'clock, since Seifer would throw a fit. A glance at the glowing green of the digital clock on his dresser's top told him it was three in the morning.

Sitting up, he reached down to grasp the blanket he'd tossed off at some point during the night. Pulling it impatiently, it billowed up before settling over his curled up form. If he'd been asleep the whole time, then he shouldn't feel so tired.

Stubbornly, he forced himself to lay still and await the claim of slumber. It had taken him a solid hour the first time. If he didn't fall asleep soon, then there would be no point. Lying on his back, he tried to empty his head and hurry the process along.

"Oomph," the small knocking of air from his chest came with the unexpected weight placed on it. The small form of Gabriel stared at him, sitting on his chest after jumping and landing gracefully.

"You're getting fat," Squall insulted, rolling over so that the black creature would be forced to move or fall.

Gabriel seemed amused, and simply balanced while walking along the brunet's shifting body. Sitting again, on the curving slop of the Commander's hip, the cat stared down expectantly.

Chuckling lightly, Squall reached a hand out and patted the soft fur of Gabriel's head. "Lead the way," he conceded, knowing how the stubborn creature could be relentless.

Again, Gabriel moved away, not stopping until beside the door.

This time, Squall took the hint for what it really was and left his bedroom. With the small creature in tow, he slowed down until Gabriel passed by.

"You're lucky I couldn't sleep," he commented dryly, following the black cat into the kitchen.

"You're hungry?" he questioned. Hadn't the animal spent the whole day in the cafeteria? Having seen for himself just how much food every student slipped under the table, he couldn't believe that anyone, person or otherwise, could consume so much in one day.

Rolling his gray-blue eyes, Squall stood in front of the fridge. The descending moon shone through the open blinds brightly, lighting the kitchen quite well. The pale rays gleamed off the shiny surface of the refrigerator. Reaching out to open the door, deciding to grab the first thing that he saw and set it down for Gabriel to pig-out on, Squall stopped abruptly.

There was a small hook beside the fridge, one that he'd always stored his apron on. While it should have been vacant, protruding discretely on its own, it was not. Forgetting about the feeding Gabriel, Squall instead reached for the dark garment that hung there now.

Furrowing his brows, he held it aloft, seeing it in a better lighting. With a single loop at the top to secure about his neck and thin straps to wrap around his waist, Squall stared at the navy blue material. It was longer than his other one, falling just below his knees. His brows furrowed deeper when his eyes settled on a silver emblem embroidered into the fabric. Placed on the upper right side, left if he were to wear it just above his heart, was an exact replica of Griever's charm hanging off his gunblade hilt.

For a moment of speechless silence, Squall just stared and wondered why Seifer hadn't mentioned it.

"That moron," he finally hissed out, breaking the silence.

Gently hanging the cooking accessory back, Squall stepped back. Staring another few moments at it, he frowned. Looking down at his chest, he placed a hand over his heart. It was beating faster and there was this swelling feeling of excitement or joy within him.

Clutching at his shirt he wondered at his reaction. Was he really so elated at something so ridiculous. Hadn't Seifer ruined his perfectly good one in the first place? Why did it matter? It was a silly piece of cloth used to keep from getting food on his clothes.

Still frowning at the unwanted feelings welling inside, Squall gazed at the closed door of Seifer's bedroom.

'Stupid knight,' he shouted mentally to the sleeping blond.

Wrenching open the fridge, he grabbed a bowl of the left over chicken stir-fry. Setting it down for Gabriel, he walked back towards his bedroom.

Before he could enter, his eyes were drawn to the closed door only a few feet away. Tearing his focus away, he looked into the darker setting of his own bedroom. The mussed sheets were only one indication that he hadn't slept well. The still exhausted feeling he had was another.

Sighing in defeat, he gave in to whatever ridiculous longing his body had. Stepping back, he changed his direction and silently padded towards Seifer's room. Slowly opening the door just enough to admit his lithe frame, Squall stepped inside.

He half expected the arrogant knight to be sitting up wide awake, a knowing smirk across that handsome face. However, Seifer was sleeping, and he wasn't sure if he should be grateful for that.

Quietly stealing closer, Squall was afraid to wake the blond, lest he cause the instinctive defensive reaction that was ingrained into all soldiers.

In a moment of indecision, Squall stood before Seifer's bed, debating whether or not to leave. If he'd been able to fall asleep before, then he could do it again. It wasn't like he needed Seifer to be there, holding him. Although, he couldn't deny the pronounced feeling of loss within himself upon lying down without a warm body wrapped around him.

Groaning inwardly at his own weakness, Squall bit his lip and moved forward. The moment his weight shifted the mattress, green eyes snapped open. Seifer stared at him for a moment, the stiff structure beneath the blanket evidence that the knight had been about to react. However, the blond's form relaxed the moment their eyes locked.

There was no smarmy grin, no goading comments, and no self-righteous gleam to those dark green eyes. In a smooth movement, Seifer raise an arm and threw the covers back. The invitation was blatant.

Brows furrowed, Squall wondered why he continued to hesitate, after already deciding this was what he wanted.

Seifer never spoke, only waited patiently.

Searching the blond's eyes, Squall didn't move. It was always surprising when he misjudged Seifer's reactions. He had expected the older boy to gloat over the fact that he was restless without a strong touch. He had expected Seifer to rub it in, to make some comment about how Seifer Almasy could make anybody want him.

But, there was none of that, and this threw Squall. It was then that understanding sunk in. Those avid eyes, that had been shut in sleep only moments ago, mirrored his own longing. Seifer had been just as restless, just as uneasy without him nearby.

Suppressing a small grin at the realization that he wasn't the only one suffering, Squall promptly crawled forward. Before he could lie down, strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him closely into place.

With his back arched, the brunet conformed against the knight's body. With the covering of a blanket, Squall closed his eyes and rested his head beneath the blond's jaw, half nuzzling the warm neck upon smelling that comforting spicy scent.

As the soft stroking of his hair began, he nearly protested his body's reaction. He was warm and comfortable, and with the feel of Seifer's arms around him, he felt sleep curling like ensnaring tendrils.

TBC….

A/N I guess I'm still drawing things out… but I'll pock the pace up soon enough. 


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter Forty

Dealing With the Truth

With a classic heart warming film playing in the background, muted to lessen the distraction, two young women lounged on a soft couch.

Selphie leaned against one armrest, hugging a yellow star shaped pillow. Her bright green eyes stared in utter fascination as Rinoa divulged the day's events.

The raven-haired sorceress had been directed to seek out the consolation of the most cheerful female of their group.

In need of a shoulder to cry on, Rinoa had shown up at Selphie's doorstep and practically flung herself into the surprised copper haired girl's arms.

After the first sappy movie that Selphie had put on, they had moved on to the store of candies that Selphie willingly collected from all of Squall's fans. Though, many had been sent to her personally. Right after the war ended, they all seemed to have a fan gathering. Only, with Squall constantly in the spotlight and looking the way he did, his following kept growing and with it came yummy treats.

Always looking for an excuse to binge on candy, Selphie was glad to play the role of a consoling friend.

By the time she put on the second movie, they had been forced to change into pajamas, the elastic lining doing wonders for their plump bellies.

The gist of Rinoa's upset state was that she'd come back to Garden to seek Squall's forgiveness and work things out, but Squall had moved on.

Naturally hyperactive and currently hopped up on sugar, it took all Selphie's willpower not to jump up and down on the plush red cushions of her couch and demand to hear every detail from Rinoa. Her suspicion about who Squall had moved on to wasn't confirmed until the dark-eyed girl mentioned never know that the two rivals had been involved with each other.

At the first mentioning of this, the TV was muted, the pillow grabbed, and green eyes became fixed on the raven-haired girl.

"I know that I never knew him like you guys did, but I just never thought he'd be the type of person to… you know," Rinoa spoke a bit sheepishly, not wanting to insult the Commander or his loyal friend before her. While Selphie was her friend too, she had the feeling that if given a choice between herself and Squall, Selphie Tilmitt would smile and kindly blurt out the Commander's name in answer.

Leaning forward a bit, Selphie couldn't contain her interest. "You mean Squall being with Seifer?" she questioned excitedly.

Brown doe eyes blinked a couple times, trying to place the green-eyed girl's seemingly unknowing manner. "Yeah," she spoke at length.

"They're together? They told you?" Selphie quickly followed up, positively loving this conversation.

"Uh… that's what I told you before," the raven-haired girl said, giving her own questioning glance.

"You told me that Squall had already found someone else, but I don't leave anything to assumption, even if I'm ninety-nine point nine, nine, nine, nine-"

"I see," Rinoa interjected quickly, afraid that all the chocolate had gone to the naturally energetic fighter's head.

Sighing, Rinoa slouched back, curling her knees up close and wrapping her arms around them. With a sniffle that foretold of tears building up, the dark eyed girl exclaimed, "I really am sorry about leaving, but I didn't know what else to do."

"You've already apologized like a hundred times, just let it go. You made us worry, but so long as you've learned from it and don't do it again, none of us will hold it against you," Selphie assured, getting a little tired of hearing the same words over and over again.

Giving a small smile, Rinoa spoke softly, "Thank you." After a moment of staring off blankly, she couldn't help but reaffirm her previously stated admissions. "I really do love him, but I feel like such a fool for never knowing." Furrowing her brows she turned a hurt gaze towards the cheerful young woman. "I'm not angry, but I wish someone had told me. I don't know whether it would have made a difference, but it was important."

"What?" Selphie questioned, truly not knowing.

Not understanding the copper haired girl's response, Rinoa replied as if pointing out the obvious, "That Squall and Seifer were a couple before I knew either of them." She figured it would have had to be before she knew either man. The summer after she'd dated Seifer, she'd met Squall. The time in between was too short, less than a month.

Joyful laughter filled the room. Selphie clutched her bright yellow pillow for dear life as her laughter continued. With the need for air, the sounds became erratic and the girl very nearly fell off the couch. Managing to get a glimpse of a not so amused sorceress, Selphie attempted to explain herself, trying to form the words but only accomplishing a hissing sound as she tried to pronounce Squall's name.

Eventually Selphie's fit died out, but not before Rinoa was thoroughly annoyed from it. "Sorry, it's just, you can't possibly believe that," she said calmly, wiping her eyes.

Giving the happy girl an incredulous look, the raven-haired woman considered the implications of there never being any relationship between the two men prior to the war. "When did Seifer come back to Balamb? I haven't heard anything about it in the news."

"Monday," Selphie replied.

"Monday?" Rinoa reiterated in disbelief.

With a nod, Selphie fixed curious green eyes on the young girl who claimed to be forlorn with a broken heart. "Quistis recruited him, and he was hired as Squall's bodyguard."

"I know why he's here, and I guess it makes sense… but, Monday? That was only five days ago." She couldn't believe it.

"Well, to tell the truth," Selphie began to offer as enlightenment and perhaps consolation, "They were never together before, but I think that it makes sense now. They grew up together, and even if they were always fighting, they had to have cared about each other on some level. I mean, just look at what happened when we all thought Seifer had been executed."

Thinking back, Rinoa recalled that day. That had been the turn of the tides for her. She and Seifer had broken up already, but she still cared for the handsome blond. Upon hearing of his death, she was forced to let go, and after that she'd turned to Squall. The whole group had been in the room, and everyone seemed devastated, even though Seifer was a sorceress' knight and the enemy. But, Squall had flipped out, showing strong emotion for the first time since she'd first met him. The Commander had said something about not accepting any of it, and then he'd fled.

With a solemn nod, Rinoa was forced to admit that there must have been caring feelings behind Squall's reaction on that day. "He was really upset," she spoke quietly.

"And, Squall only ever comes out of his shell around Seifer. Though, it's usually to shout insults, it's still more than we've ever managed." Upon seeing the tears swell in dark brown eyes, she quickly added, "But that doesn't mean he doesn't care about us it's just his way, you know?"

Sniffling, Rinoa spoke through a small sob, "That's why I left. He just never opened up to me, and I couldn't take it anymore."

"Hey, it's okay, that's just how he is. He keeps everything inside, but he still cares. Squall's probably got more emotion cooped up inside of him than most people I know."

"Now you sound like Seifer," Rinoa hiccupped out.

"Eh?" Selphie intoned.

"When they came to see me in Dollet, Seifer was mad at me and started telling me off for leaving. He said something like that before he left," the dark haired girl explained.

Nodding in understanding, Selphie felt compelled to indulge her more curious side rather than simply go on consoling Rinoa without knowing every detail. "So, Squall told you he was with Seifer? Was Seifer there?"

Mirthless chuckles sounded from the half sobbing girl. "There?" she spat incredulously. "Oh, he was there alright." Her tone held seething anger. "I didn't really want to relive it again after telling Quistis, but I suppose I can't feel much worse…"

"Relive what?" Selphie prompted, sounding more excited than concerned. Already she was wishing she could have been there to see it for herself, no doubt it was something juicy.

"I wasn't told so much as I was shown that they were together," Rinoa started.

'I knew it!' Selphie's mind cheered, really wishing she had a time machine.

"I was just waiting for Squall to get back, watching TV… which reminds me, since when did he start watching so many different channels. He only ever-"

Before the young sorceress could become sidetracked, Selphie interrupted to quickly put to rest the trivial matter and get back on course, "I did that, we had dinner there and no one wanted to watch the news."

"Oh," Rinoa sounded, oblivious to the green-eyed girls change in demeanor.

"So, what did you see," Selphie questioned, managing to hide her excitement this time.

"Well, they came in together, which I didn't think much of at first, since I knew Seifer was Squall's bodyguard… but then they stopped talking, and I couldn't see them until…." Dark eyebrows wrinkled together as Rinoa's face contorted in an upset manner.

"Until what?" Selphie prompted again, losing her patience quickly. She inched forward, eyes glued to the raven-haired girl as she waited.

Exasperated with the shocking images that kept replaying in her head, Rinoa blurted out the rest of the traumatizing tale, "Until Seifer came in with Squall in his arms and they were making out like there was no tomorrow."

Green eyes blinked once, and then again. Mouth slightly agape, Selphie resisted every urge to smile like a maniac, knowing it would not please the sad girl at all. Yet, inside she was shouting for joy, feeling glee at the knowledge that Squall and Seifer's relationship was as hot and heavy as she'd suspected.

Clearing her throat and biting the inside of her cheek painfully, Selphie took another moment before she felt confident she wouldn't begin smiling. "Yes, well, these things happen," she supplied as consolation, unable to come up with anything better at the moment.

"These things happen?" Rinoa questioned with raised brows. She wondered whether Quistis had been correct in the recommendation of Selphie being the best person to cheer her up.

As if realizing that she had a duty to take care of, Selphie snapped from her internal daze of joy. Squall and Seifer might be together, thus creating the most interesting relationship she could ever hope to spy on, but that meant that a friend of hers was out of a boyfriend. As a friend, it was her job to set the muddle and probably scornful mind of the sorceress straight. "You're better off without Squall anyway," she stated.

It was Rinoa's turn to blink while suppressing emotions that tried to get out. The urge to yell and cry was pushing its way through, but she held back.

Beneath the happy go lucky exterior was a truly sharp and intuitive young woman. Selphie was good with analyzing people, and even if she made off handed comments that seemed to lack common sense, it was generally because she'd discovered something and didn't want others to know.

Having heard a particularly intriguing story, she'd return the favor and give the true consultation that the broken hearted young woman had come to her for. "Rinoa, how do you know that you were in love with Squall?"

Brown eyes widened. "Because I could feel it. I loved him, I still do," she replied automatically.

'Okay,' Selphie began to assess mentally, 'She really thinks she's in love with him.'

Changing angles, Selphie decided to incur a greater understanding in the young woman's mind. "Do you know the difference between being in love and loving someone?"

"I… of course," Rinoa affirmed. Upon seeing an expectant green-eyed gaze, she elaborated, "You love your family and friends, or a pet like Angelo. Being in love is similar but completely different at the same time. Romance and love come together, creating lust and desire. It's a deeper connection, it's unique."

Once Selphie was sure that raven-haired girl had finished, she commented bluntly, "That sounds like something from a sappy romance novel." Seeing a slightly hurt look in those dark eyes, she pressed on, "Being in love is never perfect, it just isn't. With deep connections comes vulnerability. With attachments comes weakness. Squall cares about us all, but he doesn't open himself up because he's afraid. He doesn't want to have that vulnerability. And there is no forcing a way through. He's too stubborn to let on just how much he cares, because it might be used against him if other people found out."

"Squall already told me he never loved me," Rinoa abruptly sobbed, cutting Selphie's speech short.

"That's not true," the suddenly serious young fighter remarked soundly. If she were to wager a guess, she'd say that Squall's exact words had been something like, "Squall said that he'd never told you he loved you."

"How'd you know?" Rinoa questioned, wiping tears that streamed down her face.

"Because I know Squall. He's never told any of us that he loves us, but we know the truth. We know he cares about us, and you should too."

"Hyne, you guys all seem to read one another's minds," the dark haired girl commented with a weak smile.

"That's what happens when you've been around each other too long," Selphie joked. Getting back to her initial point, Selphie continued, "If you were really in love with Squall, then you wouldn't have left."

"No," Rinoa refuted, "I was in love with him, but it just became too much to handle when he-"

"When he didn't return your feelings the way you wanted," Selphie finished for her. Having struck a nerve, she again earned the dark haired girl's attention. "That's not love, that's control. We all thought that you were perfect for Squall, we thought that he was in love with you too… we thought he was going to change."

Green eyes dimmed at the admission of what they had mistakenly assumed to be Squall's true feelings. Earnestly, she continued to prove her point, "But we were wrong. There were so many things changing at the same time, and we all just thought that what we were seeing in Squall was because of you… but it's more likely that he felt pressured to open up. We kept telling him that he was the only one who could lead us, but then we told him that he would fail miserably if he didn't start being more open."

Light brown eyebrows furrowed as Selphie remembered all the weight each of them had set upon the Commander's shoulders. "It was wrong of us, but we didn't know any better. We thought that if we could shatter the ice, then Squally would come back… but now I realize that Squally never went anywhere."

Rinoa was more than taken aback at the cheerful girl's sudden sobering. Terribly serious, those green eyes seemed to reveal a hidden anguish and everything about the usually happy woman's appearance seemed to become downtrodden. Even the flipped up hair seemed to weigh down and hang a bit limply.

"Ah," Selphie breathed out in exclamation, "Sorry, I didn't mean to ramble, but you can imagine that was a serious mistake." She held her hands up in a quick gesture, as if to tell the young sorceress not to worry about the ramblings of a hyped up girl. "Anyway, what I meant to get at was, you two were actually miserable together."

"We weren't miserable together," Rinoa stated.

"Rinoa," the copper haired girl began to chastise, "You said it yourself. You ran away because you were miserable."

"Well," the dark haired girl began to correct, "I liked being with him, it was just whenever I tried to have a conversation and he'd just stare off. It was like talking to a wall."

"That's called being unhappy," Selphie refrained from rolling her eyes. "You loved him enough to want to make his life better, no different from what we wanted. But, you weren't in love with him."

"You keep telling me that, but I don't see how I wouldn't know better. I was in love with him," Rinoa said, becoming a little defensive.

"If you were in love," she said, not pointing out that the other girl was already using the past tense, "then you wouldn't have left."

"How can you say that?" Rinoa asked, her eyes red and her feelings hurt all over again.

"I'm in love with Irvine," Selphie stated proudly.

Rinoa blanched, going wide-eyed and staring in disbelief. "But, he's… you guys aren't dating are you?"

"No, he's still chasing every piece of tail he can, but I'm still in love with him. I think he knows, and he's trying to change, but I can't force him. It hurts, especially now when he's totally enamored with Squall, but no matter how many times I try, I can't help myself. I mean, he's so cute, and he can be really sweet."

Selphie suddenly felt herself on the brink of tears, suppressed emotions surfacing for the first time since she'd begun to comfort Irvine about his crush on the Commander.

"Oh, Selphie!" Rinoa cried, launching across the single cushion that separated them and hugging the copper haired girl. It would seem she wasn't the only one dealing with heartache and troubling feelings.

"I'm fine really," Selphie said, but the tears that blurred her vision told otherwise. Sniffing, she cursed while hugging the young sorceress back, "Stupid Squall, why's he got to be so pretty!"

"Stupid Seifer!" Rinoa mimicked, "Why's he got to be an asshole."

Through hysteric tears Selphie exclaimed, "I want those lips!" She was of course referring to the Commander's perfectly bow lips that always seemed to hold a dark pink tinge without makeup.

"Your lips are fine," Rinoa assured, "Though his are surprisingly soft."

"Wah! It's not fair." Teary green eyes closed as she cried. "I want ice cream!" she suddenly declared.

"Me too," Rinoa agreed.

Curled together warmly, Squall awoke abruptly and gave a small sneeze. His movement must have woken Seifer up, for the blond stiffened and gave his own sneeze.

"Somebody's talking about us," Seifer affirmed, glaring into the darkness.

"Idiot," Squall called the knight, furrowing deeper into the embrace. "Go back to sleep."

"Gladly," Seifer stated, repositioning his arms around the brunet's lithe form.

TBC….

A/N Hehe, I had to put that in. Sorry for the lack of Squall and Seifer in the chapter. Please review, I wanna know how the girl's came off in this chapter. 


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter Forty-One

A Crowded Mind

It was a little after two in the afternoon, when Seifer had entered the dining hall with a reluctant Commander following close behind.

Since it was Saturday, everyone, students and staff alike, wore casual clothes. Although the Commander usually preferred to always wear his battle clothes, even Squall was dressed down today.

The brunet wore a dark gray turtleneck, which fit appealingly to a lean framed torso, and a pair of slightly baggy boot cut blue jeans.

On the other hand, in opposition to Squall's cool toned attire, the blond knight donned a stark red dress shirt and black slacks. The arrogant man seemed to have missed a couple buttons on the top of his shirt, casually revealing the barest hint of a well-muscled chest.

Warm versus cool, outspoken versus solemnly quiet. The two young men made for an eye-catching pair, contrasting each other in every way, yet suiting each other just the same. From skin tone to personality they differed. Not many people would readily accept that Squall Leonhart and Seifer Almasy were no longer rivals, but lovers.

Quistis and Selphie had eaten lunch together, both having a light workload for the day. With Squall back as Headmaster, Quistis only had two Saturday classes to teach and then she was done. Having already taught one that day, she was content to take a long lunch before returning for the final class, The Basics of Summoning.

Selphie had shown up in the staff office, looking for Quistis. With Rinoa gone, having left for Dollet that morning, the chipper girl had sought the instructor out. The older girl was apparently also aware of Seifer and Squall's relationship, and that meant they could talk about it.

Upon watching Squall and Seifer enter the cafeteria, they were in agreement that it was the perfect opportunity to do some observing.

It had been Quistis' conclusion, after a rather restless night of replaying images, that Squall was definitely better off with Seifer. It was a subtle, but unmistakable change in the Commander. The most noted difference had of course been the brunet's moaning in a wanton manner upon having the knight kiss him while pinned to the kitchen floor. The most she'd seen Squall reveal, as far as intimate exchanges went, was a light peck on Rinoa's cheek. Naturally, that was one of the main reasons she'd been shocked senseless the other night.

Uprooting themselves, Selphie and Quistis joined the new couple.

The table the two young men sat at was probably in the coldest area of the room. Quistis gave a small shiver as she sat down. Wearing a long blue skirt, she could feel the draft of cold air, even with her knee high boots on. Smoothing the loose folds of her skirt out, she straightened up. A soft white sweater kept her warm enough.

It was early in the afternoon, and the sun was shining on and off between shifting clouds. The cafeteria had half its lights turned on. The ground outside was covered in a good three inches of snow, reflecting light brightly into the dining hall.

For the sake of having something to occupy her hands with, Quistis ordered a cup of coffee from the young cadet who came to take Seifer and Squall's order. Selphie jumped in on the idea as well, though the instructor made sure to tell the young waiter that Selphie was to having nothing but decaf.

With a small pout, Selphie twiddled with the zipper on her sweat jacket, opening and closing the part, revealing and then covering the front of her usual yellow overall dress.

The young women managed to keep the smiles off their faces for a whole two seconds. Squall simply stared out the window while Seifer ordered food for the both of them. Their smiles came from seeing the ease with which the blond and brunet seemed to have established some eating ritual, which involved Squall being stubborn and Seifer making sure the Commander ate.

"What're you smilin' at?" Seifer grumbled. He was already in a bad mood, having been dragged to the Headmaster's office and forced to endure six hours of grueling office work. Although, he didn't actually _have_ to do any of it, there was little else to do inside Squall's office.

"Why can't we smile?" Selphie grinned wider. She couldn't wait to see their first kiss, or at least the first kiss in front of her.

"You're always smiling Tilmitt. But Trepe, what's your deal?" Now he was interested, and a bit wary.

Squall sat impassively, looking out at the snow-covered courtyard beyond the pane of glass. It was beautiful and, as of yet, undisturbed. "It snowed last night," he mused aloud, though he partly directed his comment to Seifer. He hadn't noticed any snow before. When he'd snuck into the blond's room it had been a fairly clear night still, the moon completely visible.

Quistis' smiled again, as she realized that the Commander hadn't even noticed their arrival, or if he had, didn't seem to acknowledge it.

"Maybe if you finish early we can take a trip to the beach," Seifer suggested, reaching out to ruffle chocolate locks. He would have preferred to call it a day and leave right then, but the brunet would never go for it.

With a soft, barely perceptible smile, Squall gave a small nod of approval at the idea. Since Seifer had bossily demanded to do more than sit and wait around the office, Squall had been able to get through his work at a faster pace. Naturally, he still had to look over each document and proposal, but the ex-knight paraphrased half the files, thereby cutting the time spent on reading a great deal. And, with thanks to Quistis, he was not behind from his days off. There stood a good chance of finishing early that day.

Crystal blue eyes watched the pale brunet's profiled face as it turned back to the window. The Head Instructor couldn't shake the feeling that something drastic was changing, or rather developing. Squall didn't seem likely to ever change, but there was so much inside the Commander that no one knew about, there was no telling what this relationship might bring out.

Either it had been a good morning for the stubborn brunet or the stress just wasn't getting to him like it used to. Quistis understood from experience just how difficult it was to keep up on the constant reading of reports and proposals from the other Gardens. Not to mention the press, which was something she didn't have to deal with, after only a few days. There were a million things going on at once, from SeeD members dispatched all over the world to the hundreds of cadets training.

Squall had overseen to all of it for over half a year, and for the first time, the brunet had finally taken a breather. Although, she hardly thought that running around Dollet qualified as a breather, especially when it included tidal waves and yakuza leaders, but Squall had always been trouble prone. Besides, after being cooped up within Balamb Garden for so long, she suspected that getting out had been rather enjoyable. Knowing the fierce fighter that made up the Commander's core, each chance to test his limits was welcomed. Though, she did have a suspicious feeling about the most recent incident that neither Seifer nor Irvine would tell her about.

Yet, Squall's _vacation_, which it was anything but, had lasted less than a week and it already seemed to have helped. Quistis found it hard to believe that the brunet could be suddenly refreshed. Still a little too pale, the Commander didn't seem to have gained any weight back, but he did look much healthier. There were no bags under tired gray-blue eyes, and his cheeks didn't seem hollow or gaunt. In fact, there seemed to be a calming glow. It was surprising to see a calm expression on the brunet's face, and stormy eyes that were almost serene. After returning to work again, she was definitely surprised.

"Ah," the light haired young woman suddenly gasped, a realization settling in. Quistis nearly clapped a hand over her mouth, but managed to cover the small disturbance up by taking the cup of coffee that had arrived at the same time. With a 'thanks' to the waiter, the instructor took a moment to gather herself.

She berated herself for not realizing it before. After a night of thinking about little else, Quistis should have done more than just accept what was going on, she should have tried to pick it apart. Though, the accepting part had taken up quite a lot of her time.

This was the real deal. Squall was _seriously_ involved. While she couldn't even begin to wonder just how far they had progressed, Quistis now took in the softer demeanor for what it was. No longer lonely, enamored, in love, really good sex, or whatever else it could possibly be. The Commander was definitely being affected by the ex-knight's presence on a deeper level than she'd previously thought.

'Of course,' she chastised herself. Squall obviously forgot about the world around him when….

Quistis fought the blush that threatened to brighten her cheeks. She was again seeing the Commander pinned to the floor while kissing Seifer passionately.

The instructor took a small sip of the hot liquid as she kept her eyes discretely trained on the brunet before her. Blanching, she realized that she was drinking her coffee black. Gulping down the bitter liquid, she set the cup down before reaching for the proper condiments to fix it just right.

Selphie seemed immune to having any contingency over openly staring. Propped forward on her elbows, she watched in fascination as Seifer spread jam on his toast.

A blond brow twitched in annoyance, but Seifer continued to prepare the toast, ignoring the girl. However, as he finished and moved the plate before Squall, the hyperactive pilot gave a small giggle, sending him over the edge.

"Does something amuse you Tilmitt?" the knight growled out, eyes narrowed in annoyance. He didn't mind them being there, but he certainly didn't want to be stared at the whole time. Grabbing the second plate that had been brought, he carried out the fixing of his bagel. A light meal to be sure, but Squall had kindly made a large breakfast after his pleading request.

"So cute!" Selphie cheered, catching the attention of a few people within hearing range. As if remembering that she had a drink in front of her, she grabbed the container of sugar and let streams of it flow into the dark liquid.

Dropping his eyes from the happy girl, Seifer paid attention to his hands that deftly spread cream cheese upon a toasted bagel. "I've been called sexy and hot as hell, but cute is a new one," Seifer spoke smoothly, masking his annoyance.

The Head Instructor cleared her throat, earning Squall's attention for the first time. "I think you'll find that Selphie knows about you two," she explained.

"I talked with Rinoa last night, she left for Dollet this morning, but she promised to visit and see the awesome job we're gonna do for the Winter Festival." Selphie nodded her head to agree with her own words, her hair bouncing with the movement.

"Oh?" Seifer intoned, mildly interested. "And what did Caraway's prized princess tell you?" He did a fairly good job of hiding his contempt for the raven-haired girl, though he knew a different side would present itself if they talked at length about Squall's ex-girlfriend.

"Nothing I hadn't already suspected," Selphie admonished, "You guys weren't very covert. I mean Squall just screamed sex half the time."

This claim caught Seifer's attention fully, as his hand fumbled the knife and it clattered to the plate.

Squall gave a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't exactly blame this one on Seifer, not when he'd instigated their particularly noticeable tryst on Ragnarok.

Jade green eyes filled with mischief after a brief moment of loss and annoyance. Leaning forward, Seifer locked eyes with the bright-eyed girl across from himself. "How much control would you have if you got to bang him?" He was pleased when hazel-green eyes widened and a faint blush rose to the messenger girl's cheeks.

Fidgeting for a moment, Selphie battled with her good and bad angels. While she was beyond curious, she suddenly felt as though it might not be her business. After all, she didn't go around prying into anyone else's private affairs. But, this was just too appealing not to know all about. "So you guys have sex?" she asked seriously, leaning in a bit as thought expecting Seifer to start giving details.

While Squall and Quistis stared wide-eyed at the young woman, both their faces blushing, Seifer threw his head back and began to laugh.

"You've got guts Tilmitt, I like that," the blond knight declared.

"Does that mean you'll tell me?" she followed up quickly.

"Selphie," Quistis hissed, "That is none of our business."

"But," the copper haired girl began to argue, "You got to see them kiss." She glanced at the instructor as though the woman would nod in agreement.

Blushing, Quistis huffed and folded her arms. It was like being caught with a hand in the cookie jar. She knew she shouldn't have told Selphie what she'd seen. In retrospect, she'd say that poor Squall was probably the most embarrassed about it all. Considering Seifer didn't seem to have any shame in anything he did, the brunet was probably mortified upon coming back down from the clouds last night.

Squall had a sneaking suspicion that the conversation was going to be centered on Seifer and him being together. Irvine already knew, so it wasn't so surprising that Selphie would have figured out as well. The bubbly girl had many hidden skills, one of which was a sharp eye for observation.

However, the Commander had not predicted the blunt nature in which the young pilot would approach the subject. The chipper girl seemed elated about the whole thing, which was something that sort of threw him off.

He hated feeling embarrassed, especially when Seifer didn't seem to be affected by any of it. Why did it matter? Of course he wouldn't tell the whole world, but at this point it was given that his friends would have to be informed. So, why was it so hard to talk about?

Shiva's words resounded in the brunet's head. 'Let yourself go,' he mused over. Was this what his Guardian had been referring to? Not specifically, but in general. Easing up, and not caring so much about upholding a public image, was that it? 'Maybe,' he thought, still not certain about the Ice Queen's vague words. He had been under the assumption that he'd already _let himself go_ by kissing Seifer and starting this relationship.

Shaking dark choppy strands of hair, Squall tried to force himself not to care. He already had enough on his mind without adding more.

"It isn't my intention to let all of Garden know," the brunet spoke after taking a moment to school his expression. Coldly, he looked to the young woman beside him, instilling how serious he was with a dispassionate glare.

Selphie faltered for a moment. "I know," she eventually managed to mutter, eyes downcast.

Mentally rolling his eyes, Squall cursed his inability to simply ignore Selphie's mood swings. With a sigh, he decided that if sleeping with Seifer wasn't _letting go_ then there was little else left that could be.

Unfolding his arms, the Commander reached for a piece of toast. Holding it before his mouth he spoke softly, "I suppose it would be rude to plan a trip to the beach without inviting you."

"Can we really come?" Selphie asked, brightening up. It might be freezing outside, but they all had a special fixation with the beach, and were used to going in all weather.

Squall gave a small nod, chewing on a small bite of toast. Blinking a moment, the brunet furrowed his brows suspiciously. "It's strawberry," he said, referring to the jam. It didn't really matter, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the blond had known his preference.

"Oh?" Seifer sounded in innocent questioning. Abruptly shifting closer, he took a small bite from the toast held up in a delicate hand. Grinning in amusement he pretended to ponder over the flavor. "Yup, strawberry. However…." In one swift movement, the knight caught the ill prepared brunet in a kiss. Clasping one hand around Squall's slender neck, he kept the younger boy in place.

Surprised at the blond's audacity and total disregard for the fact that they were in a dining hall that was not completely void of staff or students, Squall was delayed in reacting. His initial response was to shove the knight away, but that might cause more of a scene and draw more attention. As it was, if no one was looking at their table specifically, then the pillar beside him did a decent job of hiding him within the recess of the corner. His next instinct, aside from the urge to kiss Seifer back, was to yell at the blond. This, however, proved unhelpful.

Before Squall could get any words out, Seifer took advantage of parted lips and snuck his tongue in. The slick appendage coiled around his own, but only briefly.

The blond was satisfied, having tasted Squall. He already knew from experience that the brunet couldn't stay mad at him for long, and he was feeling a little put off at Squall's firm statement about not letting anyone else outside the small band of heroes know about their relationship.

Drawing the short kiss to an end, Seifer released his hold on the Commander's neck with a final ruffle to the soft mop of hair. "I think you taste better," he whispered softly, just barely loud enough for the others to hear.

With a clenched fist, Squall resisted the urge to throttle the man. He hated how Seifer pushed every one of his buttons, and the way he seemed unable to scourge up enough anger to lash out. Flexing his hand, he made a vow that in their next spar Seifer was going to suffer.

A squeal of excitement filled the air.

"Holy Hyne!" Selphie exclaimed, unable to keep her voice in check. She'd just witnessed it first hand, for herself. Seifer and Squall, totally into each other, kissing.

"Selphie," Squall hissed in reprimand.

"Oh right, sorry," the copper haired girl said, slouching in her seat and clamping two hands over her mouth.

Eyes closed, with her glasses slipping to the tip of her nose, Quistis rested her chin against her palm while angling her head away. These two would be the death of her. Perhaps Seifer didn't understand the exact reasons why Squall had decided against going public.

"It's Saturday, do you really have to go back to the office?" Seifer questioned, knowing the answer already.

Turning his attention back outside, Squall closed his eyes for a moment in thought. "No, I suppose we don't have to go back," he breathed out in a sigh.

Jade eyes widened in surprise, but then promptly narrowed in concern. "Squall?" he called to the brunet, wondering if something was wrong, aside from his rash kiss.

Stormy eyes regarded Seifer evenly, betraying no emotion. When Seifer didn't seem likely to let it go, Squall changed the subject. "How's Rui?" he asked Selphie.

Slow to comprehend that Squall and Seifer were having some sort of secret exchange, Selphie took a moment to reply. "He's doing good in class. I actually asked him if he'd teach me how to pick locks." She smiled brightly at this. However, her smile fell shortly after. Brows furrowed together, she spoke seriously, "He was super upset after we got back from Dollet."

Ignoring the concerned gaze of jade eyes, Squall kept his attention on Selphie. "Upset?" he questioned.

"Yeah," the hyperactive young woman replied. Seeing that Squall was interested in hearing more, she expressed her own opinions about what the dark haired boy was going through. "He refuses to see you. Says he's brought you nothing but trouble, while you've done nothing but help him. I think he feels that it's all his fault."

Squall frowned at this. He hadn't really given the boy much thought after closing the case with Epson. He still had plans for the talented thief, but it only involved using the kid to help him start a new set of courses. Now, however, he realized that after offering Rui a life in Garden, he'd changed the boy's life drastically. Ignoring the boy as just another newbie cadet was not an option.

"Where is he now?" Squall asked, planning to see the boy sometime that very day.

"Well, actually, he was going to start teaching me the basics after lunch," Selphie answered with an unsure smile.

Simply giving a nod of understanding, Squall sat back in his seat. Taking another bite of his toast, he continued to stare out the window. He could feel the heated gaze of the blond, but he ignored it. There was only so many times he could give into the desire to run away from the world and sleep with Seifer. With so much on his mind, he had to start dealing with it before it became too much to handle.

TBC….

A/N Okay, Rinoa is gone. Sorry about that, but it wasn't exactly something I could just ignore… she was his girlfriend, and it's a little hard to simply ignore the fact that Squall would have to end things with her completely. And, I haven't forgotten about Rui. I do have each character in mind when I write, so just because they haven't shown up in a while doesn't mean that they've suddenly disappeared. After all, this is all happening within a short time frame, and with so many things going on, it's not like every person can be in each chapter. Anyway, I hope you liked it


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter Forty-Two

Winter Planning Begins

That Saturday turned into one big group activity.

Together on a beach, it felt like old times. Squall, Seifer, Irvine, Selphie, Zell, and Quistis. Everyone wound up dropping his or her plans for the day and skipping off to the beach.

The only difference was that they were much older and Matron wasn't there to call them in for dinner.

It was cloudy, the sun hidden behind the building grayish white puffs of condensing water vapor. No one ventured too close to the frigid water, since they were likely to be tossed in as a joke.

While there was no snow on the ground at sea level, but it was still freezing with the constant offshore winds. In a few days there would probably be a bout of unusually warm weather, or something to compensate the early coming of winter.

Among the group was a mixture of those who enjoyed the cold seasons and those who hated it.

Zell and Selphie both preferred spring and summer, and refused to dress any more warmly than usual, even though their knees were practically buckling with the shivers.

Seifer was rather impassive about it, he never really cared what season it was. Although, the blond was quite enjoying the subtle delight that shone in the stormy eyes of his little lion.

Winter was definitely Squall's favorite season. It was the only time that he could be surrounded by snow without being asleep.

Quistis and Irvine weren't partial to the cold, but enjoyed the colorful changes in autumn and the holidays of winter.

At some point, they all began to build a sand castle.

It had started with Selphie, who was preoccupied with her open staring at Squall and Seifer. Crouching on the sand, she'd been absently mounding a pile up while avidly waiting to see them kiss again. This some how turned into a group effort and serious project.

It wasn't exactly easy though, the sand was dry, and they were reluctant to work with wet sand, lest they develop frost bite.

In the end, even their expertise was no match for the crumbling of dry grains.

As the afternoon wore on, the band of fighters settled down from their hours of childish play. They called it quits when Zell came running down from at least half a mile up towards Garden, carrying a snowball. Starting a snowball fight without any snow was just too tiring for anyone to manage. Even Selphie plopped down into the sand, unable to find enough energy to copy Zell's actions and seek revenge for the snow in her hair.

Seifer had been feeling concerned about Squall's increasingly aloof behavior. At first, he'd thought that it was because of the kiss in the cafeteria. But, he soon realized that something had been bothering the brunet for the passed couple days. It was Laguna, or so he concluded.

The Commander hadn't mentioned anything except for the President's name, but Seifer knew it was weighing heavily on the overly analytical young man's mind.

Copper brown hair fell forward as Selphie rest her forehead against her bent knees. Hugging her shins, she tried to warm up a little. The soft ruffling of material didn't register until she felt a warm coat draped over her shoulders. Her hair bounced as she looked up.

Irvine stood tall, a small smile in place. Winking at the small woman swimming in his coat, he deftly folded his long limbs and sat closely beside her. With his long sleeved deep purple shirt he was fine without his trench coat.

"Thanks," Selphie muttered shyly, forcing herself not to grin like a maniac.

With Irvine so close to her left side, and wearing his coat, she could smell the cowboy's cologne. Ignoring the warmth that came, not from body heat or the garment, Selphie pulled the coat shut and held it closed with her hands.

Quistis followed the unofficial couple's lead, taking a seat on the bubbly girl's other side. With the general idea in place, Zell sat down beside her as well.

"We haven't done this in a while," the spiky haired blond exclaimed, stretching his hands above his head before furling up in the same manner as his three friends.

Seifer, who absolutely refused to sit pressed against Kinneas, battled with himself for a moment. Obviously the group had made some tacit decision to stay awhile longer and simply sit together.

The nostalgia that the blond felt was the only reason he didn't take Squall's hand and trek back to Balamb. Perhaps taking a rest and simply staring out into the ocean was exactly what Squall needed, to clear the over occupied mind.

Resigning to his fate, Seifer walked to the other end of the group, choosing Chicken-wuss over Cowboy. Naturally, he tugged the Commander along with him, lest the stubborn lion choose to spite him and cozy up to the gunman.

Taking a seat on the less than comfortable sand, Seifer had his long coat spread beneath him.

"Seifer," Squall spoke the name with a reluctant tone. The blond made to pull him down and take a place pressed back against the knight's body.

"Come on, it's cold," the doting bond supplied. Unable to make Squall talk to him, he could at least let the quiet boy know that he was there. Touching was the best way to do this, especially if he couldn't use words.

With Squall between his legs, he hugged the smaller man close to his chest. Soft strands of hair tickled his chin as the wind blew.

"Well, aren't you two adorable," Zell commented. He was a bit uncomfortable with the proximity in which the couple was acting like a couple.

"Shut it Chicken-wuss," Seifer shot back, holding Squall tighter.

As weird as it felt to be intimate with Seifer around everyone else, Squall didn't protest any further. It was warm and comfortable, and with the sound of the waves and blustering breeze, he felt like he could have fallen asleep right then. Calm and soothing, his mind didn't feel quite so scrambled. Yet, this in itself presented him with even more problems.

Trying to sort through so many different feelings, none of which he was used to having, Squall didn't find complete solace in the protecting embrace of the blond knight.

The only way Squall could describe how he felt was to compare it to when he'd first junctioned Shiva. He'd been sixteen, and the Ice Queen was his first Guardian Force. Without many solid facts gathered about the otherworldly beings, Squall had hardly trusted the books he'd read and lectures he'd learned from. Each time, he never kept the Guardian junctioned for more than a day. There had been this constant fear, or worry, that with the unnatural presence of the creature in his head, that his mind would be consumed or taken over.

Now, as his thoughts constantly lingered on the blond knight, he felt the same way. He felt as though he was changing. It was like he wasn't himself any more. Regardless of his confident words to Quistis the other night, he felt as though he was a completely different person.

Unable to stay angry, Squall felt as though he were becoming vulnerable and weak. He couldn't resist the blond man at all. From a heated look to a spine tingling touch, he couldn't refuse Seifer. For Hyne's sake, he couldn't even sleep in his own bed without Seifer there. It was a frightening weakness, one that he wanted to get rid of, but at the same time wanted more of.

If Seifer knew the extent of his weakness, would the blond use it against him? He knew the answer to that without even thinking about it. 'Of course not,' he concluded lamely. That was another problem, his inexplicable trust. Even with a terrible track record, he was willing to relax back into the warm body behind him, completely exposed but trusting that nothing bad would come from it.

Frowning, Squall stared out into the vast waters, mulling over the torrents of inconclusive facts he'd gathered. Self-analysis was not his forte.

"I still think it's really weird," Zell said, cutting through Squall's thoughts.

Turning his head, Squall looked to the spiky haired fighter. With a craning glance to the knight behind him, he wondered what sort of couple they seemed like. He didn't know when it had become normal. After only a few days, it was odd that everything seemed to progress and fall into place so naturally.

"I gotta say though Squall, ever since you became famous, you've made being gay normal," Zell spoke again, still dealing with the news.

"I'm not gay, exactly," Squall replied evenly, not sure if he wanted to be labeled as gay, or if the word did actually apply. He wasn't with Seifer because he liked men, although if all anal sex was as good as it was with Seifer, then he might have to reconsider his preference. He'd found women attractive, by looks only. And it was hardly ever more than an appreciative glance.

"Not you, I meant other people, other guys. I mean, you're pretty good looking, and half your fan mail is from men," the energetic boxer continued thoughtfully.

"Does Zell have a crush?" Seifer mocked, giving the hyperactive man a warning glare.

Jumping to the defensive right away, Zell replied, "No way man! I just make a lot of money off it."

"What?" Seifer remarked, his tone suspecting and angry.

"Well, a lot of the guys aren't _really_ gay, but they can't help looking, and well, they're too macho to be open about it. So, that's where I come in, you wouldn't believe how much a good picture of you can sell for. One time, there was this congressman who paid me two thousand gil, just to get him-"

Whack 

Zell was cut off with a slap upside the head from the over protective ex-knight.

"Dincht, if I so much as see you with a camera in the vicinity of Leonhart, I'll string up by your-" Seifer began to warn, deadly serious, but was cut off. The sharp pinch to his thigh stopped him short of finishing the threat.

"Seifer," Squall hissed, keeping his hand on the blond's thigh, in case he needed to give another pinch.

As much as Selphie wanted to find her usual interest in the Commander's unusual display of affection, she couldn't. Beside her, Irvine had been staring longingly at Squall for some time. Retreating from the outside world, she chose to ignore it all and sulk silently. It hurt, but there was nothing she could do.

Quistis, who seemed more apt to picking up on the high-strung emotions coursing through each person around her, changed the subject. "So, the Winter Festival is coming up," she prompted the subject.

Hazel-green eyes blinked, slowly focusing back to the real world and snapping from the internal reverie they were in. Ignoring the groans given by Seifer and Irvine, Selphie brightened. "I have the plans all drawn up!" she cheered merrily, temporarily forgetting her unrequited love.

Seifer, having groaned and sent an annoyed glared towards the Head Instructor, buried his face into the junction of a warm neck. Against the soft material of the brunet's turtleneck shirt, he gave a small cry of exasperation. Lifting his head just enough to make his words clear, he asked, "Do I seriously need to be involved in any of it?"

"Yup," Selphie affirmed, giving that eerie tone of happiness but also of an undeniable threat.

"What if I let you watch me 'n princess make out?" the knight questioned, half serious about the proposal. He felt the suddenly tense nature in which Squall reacted to his suggestion. With a soft chuckle, he whispered heatedly into the Commander's ear, "Joking, joking." The small tremor given off by the pale man in his hold, only served to send a tremor of his own straight to his groin. It was too bad they weren't alone.

Scoffing, Selphie pointed out, "Squall would never let you do that."

"This will be the first Winter Festival you've thrown for Balamb, are you going to set things up like you did in Trabia?" Quistis asked, thinking about the student's midterm exam schedules.

"Yeah, a week long celebration that'll lead up to one big night. I have the floor plans and activities drawn up, and I want to start setting everything up next week." Selphie began to divulge excitedly.

"But, its November," Zell reminded, rubbing his hands together. It was hard to ignore the cozy couple beside him, and even harder not to run into town and get a camera. He could make a living off of selling pictures of Squall. He hadn't known how lucrative it could be until he'd sold copies of the pictures from the Commander's stalker to Nida. It was just too bad that he ended up turning down half the offers. He'd be rich if he didn't have a conscience. Any bad vibes from a deal and he couldn't bring himself to complete it.

"Yes, which means we only have a month to prepare," the copper haired girl announced officially. She wished she'd brought her laptop with her, then she could show everyone the layouts she'd constructed. She was determined to make this the best festival she'd ever assembled.

Irvine tore his violet-eyed gaze from a frowning Commander. The excitement that radiated off of the small fighter beside him was infectious. He smiled against his wont, becoming amused regardless of his inner turmoil. "As long as you aren't cooking or handling any explosives, then I don't mind helping out," he drawled amicably.

"Good, cause you didn't have a choice anyway," Selphie affirmed.

Sullenly, Seifer questioned, "We aren't going to be the only ones doing this, are we?"

"No, we need a lot more manpower," Quistis commented. The heels of her knee-highs were digging into the sand. She hoped that the grains didn't manage to get stuck in the zippers' crevices.

"Squall," Selphie said with an overly friendly pronunciation.

Before the constantly cheerful girl could continue, Squall replied, "I already spoke with FH's team two weeks ago, they're looking forward to building whatever you want."

With delighted laughter, Selphie kicked her feet up and down, thumping her heals over and over again into the sand. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she cried, "I love you Squall, you're the best!"

Squall was again struck by that word, that ridiculous word. Feeling as though he'd been slapped, he fell quiet and didn't respond to the elated young woman's joyful exclamation. It wasn't that he doubted Selphie, or even that he took her meaning literally, but he resented the ease with which she was able to make such a remark. It was as though she didn't need to second-guess herself. To his growing dismay, it seemed as though most people didn't struggle over the simple word. Yet, this speed bump was like some mountain to him.

"What's wrong?" Seifer whispered discretely in the brunet's ear.

Turning to stare out at the ocean again, Squall squinted against the wind that suddenly picked up. "Nothing," he mumbled, unconsciously squirming deeper into the warmth behind him.

Seifer frowned, but didn't press the matter. Something was definitely on Squall's mind, and the stubborn man wouldn't tell him. He'd wait until they were alone to pry it out of the brunet. Although, he would much prefer it if Squall, the man he'd professed his love to, told him without having to walk across broken glass.

With a sigh, Seifer focused his attention elsewhere. "So, Tilmitt, what exactly am I supposed to do? Does it include watching Squall up on a ladder?"

Giggling, Selphie pictured just that. Squall stringing streamers with a gleaming eyed Seifer holding the ladder and ogling the Commander's famous ass. "That could be arranged, for a price." Her amusement fell short when she leaned forward and saw the reclusive expression on the Commander's pale face. Squall had already cut himself off, somewhere between her thanking him and Seifer joking with her.

Sobering up a bit, Selphie reminded herself that when Squall got like that, there was no bringing him back. So, she'd just have to share her enthusiasm with everyone else. Directing her attention to the blond knight, she answered his question in a serious manner. "Rumor has it that you're pretty good with explosives. I myself can make a pretty mean pipe bomb, but since no one will let me," she paused to send a glare to each head she could see, "I wanted you to arrange the fireworks."

"Seriously?" Seifer asked, the relief in his voice evident. He'd been afraid she was going to have him dressed up as Santa Klaus or Jack Frost.

"Wait," Irvine interjected, staring pleading down at the girl beside him. "Almasy gets to play with fire, while I have to tap dance?" he asked incredulously.

"That's such a great idea, I forgot that you could tap dance," Selphie exclaimed, completely ignoring the unwilling tone in which the gunman had posed his question.

Groaning, Irvine remained silent, not wanting to dig his hole even deeper.

"You'll help out in the kitchens, won't you Squall?" Selphie asked, pressing her luck by treading on the precarious ground of disturbing the brunet's deep thoughts.

"Huh?" Squall sounded, stirring after a delayed moment.

"I think Greta can handle it," Zell commented in an all-knowing manner.

While Quistis adjusted her glasses, she pointed out, "Not for so many people at once."

"Not to mention over such a long period of time. I imagine we'll need more staff in the kitchens," Selphie said, nodding in agreement with her own words, as she was oft to do.

"You lost me," Zell said while rubbing his arms.

With a roll of hazel-green eyes, Selphie explained, "The whole week is going to have special meals."

"It's cold," Zell commented, losing interest in the conversation abruptly.

As the spiky haired fighter's words fell on deaf ears, Quistis voiced her main concern about the whole ordeal. "What about exams. We can't have distractions."

"Only you would have a problem with that Trepe," Seifer commented wryly. He was only paying attention to half of what was being said. Having found out that he wasn't going to have to do anything ridiculous or embarrassing, he lost interest.

"I'm serious," the bright-eyed instructor persisted, ignoring the ex-knight's comment. "What time frame are we talking about Selphie? Is this a holiday thing or a winter break thing?"

"Quisty," Selphie whined, "I'm an instructor too, ya know?" Leaning forward she drew lines in the sand with an index finger. Pouting she said, "I'm hurt that you don't have faith in me."

Chuckling softly, Quistis pointed out the obvious again. "Selphie, you're an arsonist with a disturbing amount of knowledge of what makes everything tick. You're the most free-spirited person I know, and if you attracted as much trouble as Squall did, then none of us would be here right now. I somehow doubt that midterms would stop you from throwing a party."

"Was that a compliment or an insult," Selphie questioned, not reacting since she seriously couldn't tell.

"It's really cold," Zell commented again.

"Then have Seifer hold you, since he seems to enjoy it so much," Irvine said bit out in reply to the shorter blond fighter.

"Now, now Kinneas," Seifer admonished. "What did I tell you when you tried to play with my toy truck?"

The gunman gave a faint growl before falling silent again.

Selphie, who was actually thinking back on the matter, straightened up while voicing the answer to the rhetorical question. "Umm," she sounded, shutting one eye and sticking her tongue out in concentrated thinking. "It's mine, you can't touch it," she stated with a questioning tone.

Seifer rolled his eyes at Tilmitt's antics. He wasn't sure if the fact that she was being serious should concern him or not. "Close Tilmitt, but I believe I told the cowboy to _back off_," he spoke in a harsh manner, enunciating that last couple words to make his message clear.

Scoffing Irvine held his tongue. Whatever quips he might have used would only serve to insult Squall just as much as they would Seifer. There was no goading the blond about any of it, without taking into account that Squall was in the relationship willingly.

"Can we go back?" Zell asked, tugging on Quistis' sleeve.

"It is rather cold," the instructor commented as though the spiky haired fighter next to her hadn't been complaining.

"What time is it?" Selphie asked.

Standing up, Zell bounced from foot to foot. The sudden loss of body heat was noticeable. With a quick glance to the watch on his wrist, he said, "It's quarter of six."

"Ah!" Selphie exclaimed, shooting up from the ground. Before she could explain her reaction, she rubbed her butt and said, "My butt's numb."

Snickering at the copper haired girl's oddball personality, Quistis stood as well. "Are we doing anything tonight?" she asked, wondering if their hanging out was just a beach trip deal, or if they were going to spend the night together.

Taking off the oversized brown trench coat, Selphie handed it with a thankful smile to the gunman. Blowing on her hands, she said, "I have to get back and see Rui. I told him we'd meet later, at seven."

"I wanted to see Rui too," Squall reminded the chipper young woman, finally breaking from his silent musing.

"Then we should get going," Selphie replied.

Seifer released his hold on the brunet reluctantly, but swiftly enough to not cause suspicion. With the biting cold, he suspected that the loss of warmth wasn't just physical. His concerned gaze followed Squall's movements. Whatever was eating away at the brunet was also eating away at him.

A/N This chapter was fun to write. No particular reason, it was just fun. I suppose the only thing I can mention is that any grammatical or spelling issues will be dealt with when I run through the story again after finishing it. As always, please review. Everyone's reviews have been so awesome so far. You guys rock!


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter Forty-Three

A Not So Secret, Secret

Half a mile up, not long at all, but long enough for Seifer to know that Squall was doing more than heavy thinking. Sand turned into grass, and then into snow. By the time the group had trekked a third of the way back, Seifer was trailing a few steps behind everyone else.

Green eyes watched as the Commander walked with a gracefully, but with a troubled, stride, as though physically weighed down. With hands firmly shoved into the pockets of a bomber jacket, the brunet kept his head lowered and eyes trained to the ground.

What should have been a fun walk, filled with staring at Squall's cute ass and swaying hips, was instead terribly oppressing.

At that particular moment in time, Seifer would have given Hyperion away, or at least lent it, if he could only read minds. It wouldn't even have to be plural, just one mind, Squall's mind.

While dealing with the stubborn lion was not new to him, it was extremely uncommon that Squall shut him out like all the others. Never had the brunet remained holed up inside while around him. Either they were arguing and clashing blades or, more recently, they were screwing each other senseless. Very different activities, but they all had a similar characteristic of Squall being open around him.

He couldn't exactly say that Squall was shutting him out. After all, it had only been a whole twenty minutes since they'd left the beach. But, if he included the time since Squall voiced some trouble bothering him, then it was at least a day.

Not for the first time, he resolved to deal with it when they were in a more private setting.

The last person Seifer wanted to deal with was the thieving brat Valdez. So, while Squall went with Tilmitt to see the kid, he'd have a visit with his posse, to break the good news. Though he wasn't exactly sure that Raijin and Fujin would care one way or the other.

With any luck, by the time he returned the apartment, Squall would miss him enough to open up. Then again, he couldn't place any bets on the brunet, especially not on the inner workings of the man.

Feet propped up on a solid rectangular table, Seifer reclined in the eerie silence of the library. The librarian kept giving him scathing looks, but he was never reprimanded. Becoming Ultimecia's knight had an upside, even if it was minimal compared to the downside. While he didn't loath human contact, not like Squall, he didn't enjoy following the rules. But, there were no rules to follow if no one dared to enforce them, or so his twisted logic surmised.

Perhaps pissing people off was a type of stress reliever. He could have chosen a table in the back, but he remained out in the open, in full view of the unhappy senior cadet acting as the librarian of the day, or week, or however it went. Then again, with his current position, he could monitor who came in and out. So, it was a win, win. Convenient and he got to annoy someone.

The library had changed since he'd been there last. The tall columns extended further, a good ten rows further. And, there was left over room. It seemed that Squally-boy really was an avid reader, and donated more funds for the archiving of books. Though, the chairs weren't any more comfortable. Tall windows on the far end let in light from the remaining day. Facing east, the sky outside showed the first traces of the approaching night. The light blue color of the walls did well to brighten the room, so did the ceiling lights hanging down from high above. Each table was positioned below, or close to, a light.

Beside the windows were more comfortable looking armchairs, cushioned for the more long-term readers.

Seifer could just imagine Squall spending the whole day there. From dawn 'til dusk. The brunet was probably on a first name basis with the librarian.

With a green eyed glare, he threw a dirty look to the female librarian, not liking the idea of her being too familiar with Squall.

Before his mind could wander to thinking about Squall again, he shook his head. He'd deal with the Commander later, for now his only sanctuary was to not think about it, which was proving difficult.

Balancing precariously on two legs of the plain wooden chair, the ex-knight leaned back even further. Tilting his head, he glanced at the clock on the wall. Reading it upside down, he noted that Raijin and Fujin should be arriving any second now.

The sudden slamming of books onto the table jolted him again from his little circus act. Before his boots could be shoved off the tabletop by an angry looking red-eyed woman, he retracted them quickly. The change of weight distribution pulled the chair back to all four legs with a resounding thud.

"Fujin," Seifer greeted with a wide smile. Aside from his inappropriate library behavior he didn't have any idea why she might be upset. After a moment's thought he ventured further that it might be his lack of contact and appreciation. "I wanted to thank you for checking on that one reporter for me."

The silver haired young woman just glared harshly. Roughly pulling the chair on the other side out, she sat down stiffly. A stack of books sat before her, which she slid to the side in order to better see the blond man.

"What's wrong?" Seifer asked defensively, not willing to take the blame even if he was responsible.

"The Commander," Fujin hissed out, lacking her usual loudness for the sake of being in a library.

"Princess is fine," Seifer assured. He watched the woman carefully, looking for any hint or tip off. There was always a chance that his friends already knew about him and Squall. Considering he hadn't tried to hide it very well, there might already be rumors flying around.

With a firm set jaw, the red-eyed woman leaned half way across the table. Whispering, she said, "You were hired as a bodyguard, not to play some new game."

"What game?" Seifer questioned angrily. It was real nice to know that his loyal friend was defending someone else.

"Seifer, this isn't funny," Fujin pressed on, "Go to the training center and fight or something, but don't… don't jerk him around like this. This is a new low."

Green eyes narrowed dangerously. "First of all, thanks for your warm wishes, we're doing fine together."

"Seifer," Fujin warned. If she ever chose to speak more than two words at a time, then it was a serious matter. So, her cocky friend should be taking her seriously.

"No," Seifer hissed, a bit loudly, catching the attention of a few cadets nearby. "I thought you would have had my back in this. How did you find out anyway?"

"I told her," Raijin's deep voice answered as the big man approached.

With a gruff sigh, Seifer ran a hand through his hair and slouched in his seat. It would seem his friends already knew, and neither of them were too happy. "Let me guess, the kid told you."

"Naw," Raijin replied, pulling a chair from the side of the table. Lifting the sturdy seat like a toothpick, he set it down backwards beside Fujin. Straddling it, he sat down and regarded the blond knight whom he'd vowed to remain loyal to, no matter what. While he was still Seifer's friend foremost, he was not too pleased with the recent happenings between the two rivaling gunbladists.

"Then how?" Seifer asked, wondering just how wide spread a rumor was circulating.

"You rub everybody the wrong way. There was nothing odd about Rui not liking you at first." Raijin explained, avoiding Seifer's question for the moment.

Grunting, Seifer folded his arms. "Tell me something I don't know." It was a delayed moment of processing the burly man's words before Seifer tacked on, "Wait, you make it sound like the brat doesn't hate me."

With unamused chuckling, Fujin commented, "Quite the contrary. Now, you're like some idol."

Confused brows drew together while green eyes scanned the soft features of the silver haired woman for lies. "Are we talking 'bout the same kid?"

"The very same," Fujin answered. "He's apparently beyond grateful that you saved the Commander from Epson's evil clutches." Her voice held a sarcastic tone.

Grumbling, Seifer complained, "First he hates me, now he likes me. Damn kid can't make up his pee brained mind."

"How very hypocritical of you," Fujin said sharply.

Narrowing his green eyes again, Seifer looked from one solemn face to the other. "What they hell has your panties in a twist?"

"This game of yours," Fujin answered.

Raijin immediately backed the red-eyed woman up, "Yeah, it's like not cool, ya know?"

"Game?" Seifer questioned calmly and innocently.

"You're always playing games with Leonhart, but this is a bit too much," Fujin supplied.

Lips pressed together in a thin line, Seifer waited a moment before responding. "Since when do you two dance around the subject so much? You haven't even told me what you know, how you know, or why you're so opposed to it in the first place."

Muscles arms propped against the table and supported Raijin's large frame as he leaned forward. "We know that you and Leonhart are foolin' around."

"People talk," Fujin explained.

"Well, what are these _people_ saying?" Seifer pressed for details, beginning to lose his patience.

"These people," Fujin began locking her eye with the blond's, "are the curious pencil pushers who noticed that Caraway's girl hasn't been around. Raijin and I have been running press control for Trepe, and since you and the Commander can't keep your hands off each other, our job has been near impossible."

With a small grin, Seifer queried with his boyish charm, "Was it the hot tub, the conference room, Ragnarok, his bedroom, my bedroom, the shower, or the kitchen?"

"Hyne Seifer, we don't need to know that," Raijin commented. With a shake of black hair, he forced himself to not picture his friend and the Commander together.

Fujin stared into green eyes, her amusement had run dry some time ago. "Obviously you have no taste for discretion."

"Would you?" the blond countered.

"YES," she spoke loudly. When everything in the large room came to a halt, she gave a small smile toward the librarian and silently begged for forgiveness. Turning her attention back to her cocky friend, she reined her voice in before speaking again. "End it before you hurt him," she pleaded.

"Hurt him?" Seifer questioned with mock innocence. At this point, he'd begun to understand what his friends were so upset about.

"We might not know Leonhart like the rest of them, but we know enough. With Heartily gone, the Commander's on the rebound. I'll support you no matter what, but please don't make me support you while you play some game with Leonhart like this. It's not our style, ya know?"

Never taking his eyes from Fujin's, Seifer continued to draw the conversation out. If they weren't going to be direct, then neither was he. "Game?" he questioned again, wanting them to be the first to break down and be blunt.

"Yeah, game, ya know? Gettin' yur jollies off with the Commander and stuff. I mean, as much as it'll give me nightmares, I can't see you playin' the female. This is just some warped control thing. Instead of using Hyperion, well…." Scratching dark spiky hair, Raijin trailed off with a faint blush. After a moment he added on, "Ya know?"

Clenching his jaw, Seifer contained his anger. If the two people before him were anyone else, he would have begun yelling. Then again, if it was anyone else he probably wouldn't feel so bad.

Had six months away really hurt their friendship this much? How could they think that he'd do something like that? Screw Leonhart just to prove he could, just to have some ultimate form of control. Something like that…. He would never be capable of it. Murder? Yes, he was capable of that easily enough. Torture? Rage? Yes, yes.

There were probably more bad qualities about him than good. But, to hurt Squall, that was ludicrous. If anything, he'd lost all control he ever had. Aside from never hurting Squall, he went out of his way to make sure that others didn't either. Granted, he'd probably cause a few scratches and bruises in spars still to come, but things like that wouldn't harmful to the Commander. And, it wasn't because it was his job. If he weren't absolutely certain that the little lion was safely tucked in at night, usually within his arms, then he'd never be able to sleep.

"I think you've been too busy trying to cover up what's going on that you haven't actually seen what's really happened," he said, lowering his eyes to stare at the swirling lines of the wooden tabletop.

"What do you mean?" Fujin questioned. Her voice was a bit softer than before. The dejected way the blond hung his head made her feel as though she'd gone too far. Maybe it wasn't their business, even if they should have a say in what they supported.

Looking up at his two friends sternly, Seifer glared from one to the other. "I'll forgive you only because you were looking out for Squall's best interest."

Fujin blinked. Reaching up, she readjusted the dark patch that covered her left eye.

Seifer waited just long enough to see Raijin squirm a bit. "I'm in love with Squall," he stated bluntly.

Slowly, Fujin retracted her hand from her face. "Could you repeat that?" she requested, not thinking she'd heard right.

With a soft chuckle, Seifer relaxed slightly. "Why? Didn't believe me the first time?"

Raijin shifted awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do. "I doubt I'd believe it the millionth time ya said it," he commented with unease.

"You and the logical side of my brain have something in common," the knight commented wryly. Truthfully, he'd already accepted the matter completely, but for the sake of seeming within his sane mind for his friends, he'd tell a white lie.

"Seifer, is this a joke?" Raijin asked, his brown eyes almost pleading with the blond knight for it to be a joke.

"No," the blond affirmed harshly. He didn't like the idea of his friends thinking any of it was a joke. Sensing that they would need some token of sincerity, aside from making out with Squall, he leaned closer and admitted, "I've never felt like this before."

"Hyne," Fujin whispered, staring blankly at the stack of books nearby. Something like this hadn't ever crossed her mind, but now it made sense. Seifer would never have screwed around like that, which would have meant he was serious. It was almost relieving, but at the same time, all the more frustrating. "You and Leonhart never fooled around before, right?" she asked, thinking back to all the arguments and fights.

"No," the blond reassured with a shake of blond hair. "This is a new development."

Silver hair fluttered as Fujin snapped her head up. "You've been back a week," she remarked. With a furtive glance to the nearby tables, she made certain that no one was within hearing range. "You go from fighting like cats and dogs to making out all over the place, in a week? This isn't some _new_ development."

Seifer pretended to mull over her words, casting his eyes towards the high ceiling. Mumbling to himself, as though commentating each side of the argument he finally replied sarcastically, "Hmm, wanting to have sex with Squall is a pretty new feeling."

"How?" Raijin asked.

"Why?" Fujin asked more dominantly.

"How the hell should I know?" Seifer replied defensively.

"So, you just came back and decided that sleeping with the Commander was a good idea because you were in love?" Fujin pressed for an answer.

With a shrug, Seifer said, "Different order of events, but yeah, that's pretty much how it went."

"And what exactly made you want to sleep with him all of a sudden?" the silver haired woman asked logically.

Scoffing, Seifer rolled his eyes. "Hyne Fu, look at the princess. I can't believe there was a time when I didn't want him."

"I though you were straight," Raijin cut in quickly with a tone that implied he'd rather change the subject.

"I am," the ex-knight defended sorely.

With a snort, Raijin mimicked the blond's previously eye roll. "Just 'cause you ain't takin' it, doesn't mean you're straight."

"No, you idiot, it's not like that. I've never liked another guy before, no one except Squall."

"So, you're bi?"

"It doesn't matter," Seifer stated.

With a warm smirk, Fujin shook her head as though ridding her mind of something. "It's fine, we're fine with it," she spoke for both herself and the large man beside her.

"Now that's my posse that I remember," Seifer commented with a roguish grin.

"However," Fujin said, holding a hand up to make a point. "Is it your intention to be so public about it?"

With a small shaking of his head, Seifer gazed apologetically at the silver haired woman. "Squall doesn't want anyone knowing about, and I can see why, but I think it's hoping for too much. I mean, the media is going to notice something sooner or later, so why not sooner?"

"Because," Fujin reprimanded, "If the Commander suddenly becomes gay after breaking up with General Caraway's daughter, it will mean a never ending stream of bad news headlines."

With a nod of agreement, Raijin added, "Not to mention that no one officially knows your back. If you put it all together, it's like nitroglycerin."

Seifer frowned. "No. The way things were before was like that." Rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, he voiced a few thoughts that had formed in his head recently. "I know that there will be a lot of people against my simply being here, and they'll probably be the same people who'd want me put on trial again after finding out that I'm the Commander's lover. But, I think there may also be just as many people who won't mind or who will actually like it."

"What'll they like? You being back in Garden or you being Leonhart's boyfriend?" Raijin asked, not seeing how the combination could go over well with anyone.

"Tilmitt is running on overdrive just trying to catch us together, and while I know the general population is not nearly as hyper as she is, it does stand to reason that others might feel that way too. And, Chicken-wuss says that half of Squall's fans are male, which is another good percentage that would love to think that the Commander is slightly closer to their reach."

With a small nod, Fujin conceded that the blond had a good point. "But what about Galbadia and Trabia? I doubt the Commanders will like Leonhart dating _you_."

"Insult me why don't you," Seifer commented dryly.

"Hey, we like you, but the rest of the world doesn't, ya know?" Raijin said mildly, trying not to make it sound insulting.

"Squall's my world now, I don't care what anyone else thinks," Seifer stated evenly.

Fujin's eye widened a bit, the crimson color glinted as she shifted away. Even if Seifer had said he was serious about Leonhart, it was surprising to hear such words spoken so solemnly. It was a side of their leader that they'd never seen before. "I wish it were that simple," she said after a moment. She was beginning to feel sorry for the ex-knight. As far as she knew, he'd never fallen in love before, and now to be in love with the one person he really shouldn't be near in the first place.

Despondently, Seifer gazed at his friends. "Well, in any case, I think I should discuss such matters with Squall."

Both Fujin and Raijin gave nods of agreement.

"There was something else I wanted to ask you," the blond said. His tone implied that their conversation was drawing to a close. "I want you to invite President Loire to the winter festival. Not just for the week when it's going on, but anytime during the next month."

"He does have a country to run," Raijin pointed out. He doubted that taking time off was an easy thing to do when you were the ruler of an entire nation.

"Trust me, that would never stop him," Seifer commented with underlying mirth. Unlike Squall, the longhaired goofball relied heavily on his advisors. Running Esthar was not a one-man show, and Loire knew it.

Fujin nodded knowingly. With a small chuckle she said, "The way that man carries on, you'd think he was in love with his own son or something. But, I still don't think I should invite him for a month, he's likely to show up the first day and stay twice as long."

With a growl, Seifer refuted Fujin's words, "He's not in love with Squall."

Raijin barked with laughter. "Never thought I'd see the day you got jealous. I think I'm starting to like this whole in love with Leonhart thing."

"Keep talking," Seifer warned, shaking his fist comically. As if shocked, the blond turned in his chair quickly and glanced at the clock. "Shit, I gotta go, pretty boy is probably back." Not even waiting for a response, he dashed from his seat toward the doorway. He did, however, find time to grin arrogantly at the librarian.

TBC….

A/N Yay, another chapter finished.


	44. Chapter 44

_Warning: _This chapter is a bit lemony, so be warned.

Chapter Forty-Four

How to Make a Lion Confess

Lying flat on the couch, Seifer absently tossed a small red ball up and then caught it. Having repeated this action an innumerable amount of times, it wasn't even distracting anymore.

He could practically hear the clock ticking on the wall, though that might have been his overactive imagination. Eight in the evening, and he'd been waiting an hour.

Every once in a while, he'd shift uncomfortably and grumble incoherently.

Squall wasn't back yet, and he'd been stupid enough not to find out where the messenger girl had taken him.

At the sound of the door swishing open, the blond knight scrambled to sit upright. Growling at his own misfortune of having to wait, he threw the ball toward the entryway just as he saw the chocolate mop of hair come into view.

With a small thud, Squall's hand was grasping the squishy item before the eye could blink. Delicate fingers gave a testing squeeze. "You didn't take this from a student did you?" the Commander questioned.

"Where've you been?" Seifer interrogated immediately. Hefting forward, he deftly leapt over the back of the couch and stalked menacingly toward the smaller man.

Gray-blue eyes narrowed. The stubborn frown his lips formed was all the answer he'd give to such a pushy question. Tossing the stress-relieving ball back at the knight, he moved further in and out of Seifer's stalking path.

"Squall," Seifer said in warning.

"I thought we established that you're not my babysitter," the brunet shot over his shoulder, continuing to make his way to the kitchen.

"And I thought we established that I'm an over protective and jealous boyfriend," Seifer stated nonchalantly.

"Hnn," Squall sounded in an ambivalent response.

Secretly, the brunet was enjoying the simple banter in which they exchanged heated words. Even if Seifer was actually upset about something, it took his mind off of other matters. A small smile tugged his lips up from their frown. With his back to the blond, who followed him, he began to open the fridge for a bottle of water. Though he heard the swift movements of the knight, he chose not to react. If their arguing escalated, then his mind would be taken off of other distressing problems that much longer.

Even though the aluminum sided door had only been opened an inch or two, the forcefulness, with which the blond slammed a hand into it, created a loud bang as it was wrenched shut and out of his grasp.

Seifer's arm remained propped up, cutting off any exits on his left side. Shortly after, the tall man's other arm was placed on his other side. An entrapment, which he could escape if he truly wanted to. Turning around in the confined space, Squall glared up into green eyes defiantly.

Blond eyebrows furrowed as Seifer tried to read those guarded gray-blue eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked. So much for slowly trying to work his way up to questioning the introverted brunet.

Having expected the blond to demand information on where he'd been, Squall was thrown by the question for a moment. Once the words settled in, his mind automatically thought back on his growing dilemma. Unreasonable anger flared within him as he was forced to remember what was bothering him. Choosing the lesser of two evils, he replied, "I was with Selphie and Rui. I stayed to sit in on their lesson."

Seifer hadn't realized just how much being shut out was getting to him. This wasn't right. Squall had been stubborn and evasive with him many times before, but not like this. As he stared intently into those mesmerizing eyes, he saw no weaknesses in the icy barrier that shut the rest of the world out. "Dammit Leonhart!" he shouted abruptly.

Taken aback, Squall couldn't help the instinctive flinch he gave. Pulling his head back, it gave a gentle thud against the refrigerator behind him. What was Seifer so pissed about?

"I'm sorry," the blond apologized immediately. Imploringly he held the brunet's stricken gaze. The poor kitten had no idea what was going on.

The tense gaze they held wasn't broken until the demanding presence of Gabriel brushed against their legs. The dark creature weaved in and out, begging for attention.

Seeing an excuse to distance himself, Squall slid down against the cold surface behind him. Folding his knees in closely, he left the strong boundary of Seifer's arms and turned his focus to Gabriel.

"Hey," the brunet spoke in greeting, extending a hand to the affectionate cat.

The dark feline took advantage of the unusual doting manner of his master. Quickly moving closer, two paws were placed against bent knees in indication of what he wanted.

Seifer could take a hint, but that didn't mean he'd comply with it. It was like a slap in the face to be dismissed so blatantly. Squall hardly spared the cat a cursory glance most of the time, yet now the brunet seemed to find nothing more important than affectionately picking the creature up and slipping away from him.

"Squall, we need to talk," the knight reasoned calmly, finally realizing that any sign of force would drive the little lion away completely.

Casting a weary glance toward the living room, Squall spoke softly, "No, we don't." With that said, he shifted further away and straightened up with Gabriel in his arms.

Clenching his teeth, Seifer fought against the urge to reach out and grab Squall. It was just his luck that the Ice Prince responded negatively to force when he often found no other way of dealing with the brunet. "We do," he affirmed harshly.

"I've got a few things on my mind right now, I'm sure you've already noticed. Unless it's about something else, I'm taking a shower," the brunet replied, hoping his voice was as stern as he meant it to be.

When Seifer didn't speak again, Squall took his leave. Setting Gabriel on the back of the couch as he passed it, he stalked to the bathroom and closed the door.

Sighing, Seifer ran a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends a bit. Taking a steadying breath, he vowed that he wouldn't lose his cool again. It was impossible to tell which way a situation would turn around Squall. A conversation could turn sour in the blink of an eye around the distant Commander.

'No matter,' Seifer assured mentally, 'I can be just as stubborn.'

Renewing his resolve, the blond knight made his way towards the brunet's bedroom. He'd wait until the pretty boy was finished and then he'd confront the man again. If it took all night, he'd drag a confession out from those appealing lips.

Tousling his damp hair with a towel, Squall casually strode into his room. He had an inkling that the blond knight might be waiting for him, ready to pick up where they'd left off.

With a secret hope that behaving would lessen Seifer's determination to pry, Squall was willing to go to bed early. It was again the case of taking the lesser evil.

Wearing baggy flannel pants that barely clung to his hips, he opened his bedroom door. The first thing he noticed was the blond knight reclining on his bed. It seemed as though Seifer was sleeping, but he knew better.

Mimicking the knight's greeting from earlier, the brunet grasped the towel he'd used on his hair and chucked it across the room. As expected, Seifer stirred and caught it.

"Is this going to become our ritual?" Seifer asked, opening his green eyes to look at Squall.

Playfully mocking the knight's naturally cocky demeanor, Squall placed a hand on his hip and shifted to lean on one leg slightly. With an impassive expression, he mumbled, "Whatever" Now that he considered it, there were other ways in which he might temporarily find relief. Arguing with Seifer was one way, but another more enjoyable one would be sex. It just so happened that Seifer was good for both.

The moment Seifer laid eyes on Squall, he blanched. Tossing the towel back at the minx, he scolded, "Dry yourself off properly, and put a shirt on." With water droplets running down that beautifully lithe torso, toned to perfection, he stood no chance of arguing reasonably. And of course, those pants had to ride low enough to display the curve of the little lion's hipbone. He was practically drooling, when he should be calmly strategizing.

Squall quirked a curious brow. It might be easier than expected to seduce Seifer. Lazily, he dropped his arm down, letting the towel slowly slip from his grasp to the floor. Stepping lightly forward, he subtly shifted his hand to graze his hip. Not well versed in the art of seduction, Squall wasn't sure he was anywhere close to turning the blond on. However, he didn't miss the stiffening posture of the knight as the older boy straightened up apprehensively. Nor did he miss the visible gulp Seifer took.

Gently padding his way closer, Squall stopped at the foot of the bed. Leaning forward, he crawled across the top of the neatly made bedding. Drawing closer to the rigid blond, he gazed up into bright green eyes. There was lust in those eyes, so much of it that it sent a shiver down Squall's spine. But, there was also anger and resistance. He'd been right about Seifer wanting to talk more.

From the blond's lack of response, he could only assume that Seifer hadn't quite figured out what to do. Taking advantage of this, Squall decided to make his intentions known quickly.

With his pale skin drying off by the air, his body was instinctively craving warmth. The prospect of being filled by Seifer again was appealing even when it didn't mean driving all thoughts from his mind. His breathing and heart rate were already increasing without even beginning.

Reaching out a determined hand, he grasped Seifer's partly bent knee. Pushing it to the side, he was met with resistance. "Seifer," he breathed the knight's name out. The man's leg fell to the side slackly.

Crawling closer, making room for himself between the blond's parted knees, Squall trailed his hand along the soft fabric of the black dress pants. Though his destination was obvious, it didn't seem to register with Seifer until he cupped the semi hard bulge. The blond gave a soft groan at his actions. Rubbing Seifer's hidden manhood, Squall never broke his gaze, watching as green eyes became consumed with a singular emotion, lust.

Nimbly, Squall pulled the red shirt from beneath the waist of Seifer's pants and undid the button. Trailing the zipper down slowly, Squall broke eye contact for the first time in order to pay closer attention to what his hands were doing.

Slipping a hand beneath the exposed hem of the blond's boxers, he felt the warm patch of hairs before grasping the hardening shaft.

"Squall," Seifer hissed between clenched teeth. Try as he might, he could not find an ounce of the anger he knew he should. He was supposed to be cleverly drilling Squall with questions until he figured out what was ailing the brunet. Instead, he was completely ensnared by the overwhelming desire to have Squall's hands all over his body. The damn minx was doing this on purpose. Forcing himself to think clearly, he accused, "You're doing this so you don't have to talk."

Squall freed the tanned man's darkened length. Without any restrictive clothing in the way, it sprung up and seemed to harden further. Before replying to the blond's accurate words, he ran a finger along the underside of the aroused penis. "Maybe," he conceded while the blond's head fell back.

"Squall," Seifer called out in warning. This was the exact lack of control he'd been concerned about. The brunet practically held him in the palm of his delicate hand.

"I have other reasons," the brunet added, not wanting Seifer to take it the wrong way. Crouching down, he trailed his tongue along the same path his finger had taken. Tracing the underside of the throbbing member.

"Fuck," Seifer cursed, his hands automatically reaching out and fisting damp locks of hair. He should have suspected something when the brunet's first reaction hadn't been to kick him out of the room. "Such-hah," his question turned into a gasp as that increasingly skillful tongue lapped at the slit of his penis. Cracking his lids open, he glanced down at the smirking sex kitten. The diminished vestiges of anger flared a bit, enough to allow his coherency again. "Such as?" he questioned sternly.

"Such as," Squall began, but paused to blow cooling air across the slick mushroomed head of the blond's cock, "wanting to feel you inside of me," he finished.

Before Seifer could retort or find his lost reason to interrogate the stubborn man, that sinfully sweet mouth wrapped around his length and began sucking. His grip on the brunet's hair tightened. Squall's quick ability to learn was proving to be his downfall. Between massaging his balls and that gyrating tongue, he was swiftly brought towards a climax. The brunet was bobbing up and down, taking in an impossible amount of his length.

Without warning, Seifer threw his head back and bucked his hips up, pressing deeper into the brunet's mouth. The spasms of his ejaculation coincided with the swallowing of Squall's throat. As the brunet tenderly licked his softening member clean, he recovered from his shallow breathing.

With a small smile, Squall sat back on folded legs. His mind was blissfully clear even when giving pleasure. Panting, he looked up at Seifer's pleased face. Relaxed with closed eyes, the blond rested briefly.

Not wanting to lose the moment, Squall crept forward and hovered over the knight's strong frame. Straddling Seifer's hips, he sat back, careful not to place anymore than light pressure against the man's exposed member. His hands set to work on the buttons of Seifer's shirt.

Before he managed to undo the second button, strong hands grabbed his wrists. Looking at Seifer questioningly, he frowned when he saw disapproval in those green depths.

"Do you think I want to be with you when it's just some escape," the blond said rhetorically.

Shocked, Squall tried to pull his hands back, but Seifer never relented the hold. "It's not," he replied.

"But, that's part of it," Seifer said, carefully eyeing the brunet atop himself. Squall had shown aggression and dominance in bed before, but not like this. The younger man wasn't being pushy or forceful, just direct and damn alluring. The message was obvious, 'Fuck me until I can't think straight.'

It was to Squall's disadvantage that the ex-knight suddenly decided to push for information. Aroused and already thinking about the ways in which he'd like to find relief, Squall was not ready to go head to head in an argument. "I want you," he assured, wishing the blond didn't read him like a book so easily.

"But that's not all you want," Seifer spat, hating that he had to be mean to get his point across. The wrists he held onto tried to pull away again, but he held fast. "It should never be about anything else than what's between us."

Brows furrowed, Squall stared down into sharp green eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled, trying again to pull his hands away. Shifting, he made to get off the knight. The blond's hold tightened painfully, keeping him in place. 

"Squall," Seifer spoke the name softly, cooingly. Hefting forward, he tumbled the Commander back against the bed and hovered over the smaller boy in their reversed positions. Pinning the brunet's hands above that chocolate mop of hair, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Squall's.

Slow and drawn out, Seifer worked against those soft lips. Grazing his tongue across the slick surface of the brunet's teeth, he sought entrance. When those pliant lips parted instinctively, he encouraged a small battle between their tongues. In the end, he delved deeper, incurring soft and intoxicating moans from the minx beneath.

Eventually ending the kiss, Seifer leaned back slightly, letting Squall take gulps of air.

It might have been a dirty trick, but there was little else he could do aside from using force. Seifer chose that moment to question Squall further. "What's been bothering you?"

"Nothing," the brunet breathed out.

The blond gave a small nod of understanding before initiating another rough and drawn out kiss.

Breaking away again, Seifer stared down at the heavy lidded kitten. Panting himself, he wondered just how far he could draw this out without losing control. "Tell me," he ordered.

"Nothing…" Squall panted, "…to tell."

Blond brows furrowed. Seifer gave an almost apologetic look to the brunet. He'd have to be cruel.

Releasing the hands he'd been holding, Seifer reached down to grasp the loose fabric of Squall's pants. Almost violently, he sat back and tore them off. Before the stubborn man could vocalize any protests, he returned to once again crush already bruised lips. He continued to explore the oxygen deprived young man's mouth until he felt needy fingers twining in his hair. Just as Squall began to grasp his blond strands and pull him closer, he pulled back.

Never giving Squall enough time to react or think, Seifer abruptly pressed his fingers into the heavily breathing Commander's mouth. "Suck," he ordered.

Surprisingly, slick red lips enclosed around his fingers and complied with his command. His cock twitched at the gyrating tongue that he felt work his index and middle fingers much the same as it did when giving him a blow job.

Shaking his head, Seifer held onto his saner, less lust consumed mindset. The fact that he'd already found release before was all that kept him grounded and focused. Sometimes, the attraction he felt to Squall became a burden.

As a slick trickle of saliva trailed down Squall's narrow chin, he retracted his fingers. It truly didn't take that long to slick them up, but everything the brunet did felt so damn good.

Seifer pressed his fingers against Squall's entrance. He teasingly pressed against it a few times before slipping passed the tight ring. With the nicked oil in his own bedroom, he'd have to break the mood in order to retrieve it.

Squall simply rested his head back and caught his breath while he enjoyed the first sensation of Seifer's intrusion. Ignoring any sense of pain, he eagerly anticipated the stimulation that would be given to his prostate.

As Seifer's fingers brushed against him in just the right place, his body wracked with pleasure. Gasping, he gripped the blanket beneath him, forcing himself not to lose control like last time and impale those fingers deeper.

The ex-knight had a good idea of just what drove Squall over the edge. Knowing exactly where that sweet spot was, he made sure to rub it over and over. It wasn't long before the lithe form was writhing against the bed, panting for a whole new reason.

Squall was already seeing white spots, his entire body weak with only one focus. He was close to coming, too close to delay any longer. As good as those fingers felt, he knew that Seifer's hardened member felt ten times better. "Seifer, please," he gasped after the blond once again pressed against that sensitive spot.

"Please what?" the blond questioned, stilling his ministrations and removing his fingers.

"I want you inside of me," Squall stated, knowing that if he weren't blunt the first time, then it'd take five more times before the blond dragged the same words out of him.

It was an agonizing test of self-control for Seifer. His erect penis was already begging for release again, wanting to feel that tight heat gripping him. Building the anticipation for the brunet, he rubbed his leaking member against the well-shaped cleft.

Abruptly pulling back, he braced himself above the pale form against the bed, hands on either side of that pretty face. "What's wrong?" he repeated the question yet again.

Squall opened his lust filled blue eyes, blinking in disbelief. Was Seifer seriously asking him this _now_? Hyne, it was cruel. His body was crying to be filled, begging for release. And aside from his body's demands, his mind wasn't working very clearly.

As proof that his mind was too clouded to think straight, Squall came to the conclusion that confiding in the knight would be the best thing to do. The sooner her spoke, the sooner Seifer would quit being a jerk and fuck him. Taking a steadying breath, forcing his hips not to buck forward, he spoke quickly, "You've done something to me, I can't get you out of my head. You say you love me, and then you look at me as though you could wait till the end of the world to hear me repeat those damn words." Pausing to look meaningfully into Seifer's eyes, he admitted, "I don't know how. I don't know if I can."

Though Squall knew he'd be kicking himself later, he was powerless at such a vantage point. Hot and bothered, he had no resistance left. His little plan to avoid talking with Seifer had backfired completely.

The only reaction Squall caught was narrowed green eyes. Shortly after, Seifer was kissing him with what he could only classify as urgency.

"I don't need you to say anything, I just need you," Seifer stated harshly. Mentally, he was crying out that the brunet was a fool for having such thoughts. 'Not capable of love,' he scoffed, it was ridiculous. It was a moment later that he absorbed the reality to Squall's words. Obviously the whole matter was bothering the brunet deeply. Before he could lecture the Commander, he felt the urgent need to quench all doubt. "Be with me, like this, as we are now. I want to hold you, and touch you, and kiss you. Hyne, do you know how much I want to kiss you?" He pressed his lips against Squall's again.

Pulling back, he gazed earnestly down to the confused lion. "You're a fool for worrying about it. You can't force it, so stop trying to." He chuckled softly at the curious expression on Squall's face. Amidst desire, the Commander was actually curious and willing to learn something as though in a classroom. "We're as lost as we were our first night. I don't understand, but I don't need to anymore. Just let me be beside you, and nothing else will matter."

"How do you do that?" squall asked tentatively, momentarily able to forget about his need for release.

"What?" Seifer questioned softly. He was relieved at finally knowing what was going on in that over analytical head.

"Make everything better," the brunet whispered, wrapping his arms around the blond's neck and pulling the man down on top of himself. It was ridiculous. He didn't have any answers or conclusions, yet it felt as though his burden had been lifted.

With a cocky grin Seifer responded, "Cause I'm Seifer Almasy…." he trailed off with a hinting prompt for Squall to finish.

"…the over confident sorceress' knight who lost the war?" Squall finished with a soft chuckle.

Nipping an ear in reprimand he corrected, "…the man who gets to fuck Commander Leonhart every day."

Content that Squall wasn't shutting him out any longer, and that their time together wouldn't be misused, Seifer repositioned himself at the brunet's entrance. Carefully guiding himself into that tight hole, he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Half way in, he stopped. The distressed lion was clinging tightly to the blanket beneath them. "You okay?" he asked with concern.

Squall bit his lip against the pain while gripping the bedding until his fingers felt numb. Managing a small nod, he signaled Seifer to keep going.

Blond eyebrows furrowed in a silent apology as the knight gave a good thrust forward and sheathed himself. Encased in that impossibly tight and heated channel, he gasped in pleasure.

Squall gave a small cry in pain, gritting his teeth against it. Each time they did this, Seifer always felt just as big. But, in the end, it felt so damn good. Remembering to breath, he panted a bit, his brow glistening with the strain.

Leaning forward, Seifer directed Squall's legs to wrap around his waist while he pressed his lips to the Commander's temple. "I love you," he whispered. Pulling out slightly, he began to move without warning. Rocking back in, he felt the blood rush to his cock. It was like a small piece of heaven, Squall's tight ass. "So tight," he remarked while rocking in and out again.

"Nnh," Squall bit his lip harder, forcing himself not to cry out until it was in pleasure.

It wasn't long before the brunet was adjusted. And then he felt it, when Seifer pulled out particularly far and pushed back in. "Seifer," he called out. Legs wrapping more tightly around the knight's waist, he rocked in time to meet the blond's thrusts.

"So fucking good," Seifer thought aloud, beginning to pick to the pace up.

"Harder!" Squall cried, seeing white spots before his closed eyes. "Aah!" Seifer had heeded his demand immediately, thrusting deeper.

Over and over, they met with frantic thrusts. Perspiration gathering, skin slapping, they drew near a pleasurable end.

Just as Seifer felt himself about to orgasm, he pumped Squall's penis and gave a rough stroke. As the milky white substance spurt forth onto the pale man's stomach, tight walls clenched around his length. With a few final thrusts, he was being wrung dry, his semen filling Squall.

Breathing heavily, Squall welcomed the weight of Seifer as the man collapsed against him. Filled with the knight's warm and slick release, he relaxed contently. Whether it was the sated gratification of sex or not, Squall felt as though he might not regret telling the blond what he'd been thinking about.

As Seifer pulled out of him, he almost whimpered at the loss. Lying at the wrong end of the bed, they fumbled around to situate themselves for the night. Seifer still dressed, and Squall again in need of a shower, they settled in to sleep.

TBC….

A/N Thanks for all the awesome reviews! Keep 'em coming!


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter Forty-Five

A Helping Hand

Time seemed to have stopped flowing, or at least slowed down to an unnerving crawl.

Squall didn't know how he'd known about the shot, it was just one of those gut instinct things that SeeD so often had. Perhaps it had been because of Irvine. The gunman had been on edge, darting glances around the nearby buildings, as though there was something concealed in one of those darkened and seemingly vacant windows.

That was likely the reason. Watching the sniper's senses react to some unseen sensor clued him in. And from the warning signs, his subconscious had worked out the best strategy from the assassin's viewpoint. The alarm bells had gone off at the exact moment he would have planned to be the perfect shot.

Out in the open, they'd surely been asking for some nut case to attempt some crazy kamikaze scheme. Whoever pulled the trigger, or managed to injure President Loire would wind up dead or indefinitely confined.

It was supposed to have been a simple parade. Planned by Selphie as a rising climax to the fireworks display.

Balamb Garden had uprooted and settled in Esthar. The final week of the winter festival began with a christening ceremony for the new port that allowed Gardens, specifically Balamb, to reach Esthar without the aide of an airship or the long trek from Fisherman's Horizon.

The ridiculous float, which was painfully bright in Squall's opinion, had carried Esthar's President and himself around the technologically advanced city.

Considering that the people of Esthar had been the most cautious when it came to any matter related to a sorceress, there was little uproar about a sorceress' knight standing beside the President's son. While it was a surprising reaction, no one was complaining, least of all Squall.

Adverse to the idea in the first place, the only reason Squall agreed to ride the eye-catching contraption was to show Laguna how he felt, since he couldn't vocalize his feelings. Surely the goofball of a president would know he cared if he went along with Selphie's plans without complaint.

However, in his experience, parades ended badly. The odd sense of déjà vu was not something he could disregard as something solely from past experiences. And, with Irvine on edge, his gray-blue eyes were scanning every shadowing corner for something awry.

The thought that Laguna might not have been the target did cross his mind, but it just seemed the most likely conclusion. While he had his own share of enemies, the media had somehow spun the story on the Esthar-Balamb Treaty. The general focus was on President's Loire's extortion of the young and impressionable Commander, who just so happened to be a long lost son in search of the father he'd never had.

So, the general concern when setting the guard around the float's pathway had been that some fanatic would try to exterminate Laguna because of the treaty. Seifer was there for his own protection, while Kiros was there for his father's.

It was within the momentary suspension of time that Squall couldn't register the weight against his back.

A piercing shot had rung through the air, but even before that, he'd moved to block Laguna from view. It had been instinctive, and probably incredibly stupid, but there was no changing it.

Sprawled on the level ground of the float, Squall and his father lay in a heap. Precariously close to the edge, the second thing the brunet noticed aside from the weight against his back was the panicked crowd nearby.

And then, another shot rang through the air. Irvine had taken a mark and reacted swiftly, everything going happening in only a matter of seconds even if it felt like an eternity.

The second sound of a gun being used jolted Squall back to reality. No longer running on instinct, he shifted to sit up quickly. The concerned and worried expression on Laguna's face registered a moment before his focus was placed elsewhere.

The movement to sit up brought the sound of a body falling to the hard wood of the float's stage like platform. Turning around swiftly, gray eyes widened at the sight of Seifer heaped unconscious.

Rolling the ex-knight onto his back, Squall's eyes widened further at the sight of pooling blood running beneath the tanned man's form.

"Shit," he cursed. With as much care as he could spare, he turned the unconscious form over again.

Against the dark material of the trench coat, slick crimson could be seen. Slowly, the stain spread across the white symbol etched to the back of the garment.

Without thinking twice, he cast a Cure. Opening his eyes again, he wondered if the continued flow of blood was not from the wound but just a spreading stain being soaked up.

To confirm his question, he removed the garment, seeing a two-inch hole. For a long ranged shot, it was a rather large bullet. Even with the cure, they'd have to remove the bullet quickly.

The forest green shirt beneath was equally soaked, and it stuck to the tanned skin as he raised it up. To his shock, his eyes settled upon the wounded source of the blood. Fear shot through him as he saw that the bullet wound was at the upper left of Seifer's back, at the shoulder blade.

It must have been deeper than he'd thought, more internal damage than a single Cure could handle. Using a Curaga, he watched with abated breath to see the flesh seal closed smoothly. He could almost picture it happening, but it was all in his head. The wound remained open, bleeding freely.

The still beating pulse indicated that Seifer's heart was not hit, but that did nothing to explain the lack of effect the healing spells had. A Curaga would be more than enough to handle such damage.

Thinking quickly, Squall called out to the cowboy nearby, "Irvine, I need Holy Water!"

Without question, the gunman produced the small vile of clear liquid and tossed it to the frantic yet calm Commander.

Catching the bottle, Squall uncorked it. Oblivious to his surroundings, he continued to focus on the irrational knight who just had to play the hero.

Regardless of the wound, he turned Seifer over and used a Phoenix Down. When the item didn't take effect right away, he wondered whether he'd used the wrong item. However, Seifer eventually groaned and came to. Though he had the sneaking suspicion that the Phoenix Down had nothing to do with it. He tilted the man's head up and encouraged him to drink the liquid.

Sputtering, Seifer slowly opened his eyes. With a grin, he refused the liquid. "I think it'd go down better with mouth to mouth," he said, still half dazed.

Squall refused to let the sign of Seifer's naturally cocky nature bring him relief. It was likely that Seifer would say something like that even on his deathbed.

Fearful at the continued loss of blood, Squall took a mouthful of the liquid and leaned down to press his lips against Seifer's. Deepening it to the blond's obvious want, he lingered until he was certain the ex-knight had swallowed. Breaking away, uncaring of the public display, he became concerned with the tangy taste of blood mixed in with unflavored Holy Water.

When no signs of the potion showed to have worked, he repeated the action. Without any indication that the Zombie effect had been taken care of, Squall continued this process until the whole vile was emptied.

At that point, it was apparent that Zombie was not the problem. But, just in case, he tried using another Curaga. The final indicator was when Seifer didn't seem negatively affected by the spell.

Pulling out an Elixir, he attempted to use that. Nothing worked. Following each descending order of potions, he was afraid to use too many and cause the blond to throw it up. It wouldn't have made a difference though, since none of them were working.

"Irvine!" he called out, his voice rising above the deafening noise from the surrounding crowd.

The gunman had been standing nearby, unnoticed by the Commander. "Yeah?" he drawled out in concern.

With lost confidence, Squall sought the gunman's help. "Why isn't magic working? It's not Zombie."

"Don't worry Princess, it's nothin'" Seifer assured, his voice crackling with an increasing amount of blood seeping into his mouth.

"I-" Irvine began, but faltered in his answer. He'd never seen Squall so unhinged and helpless. Honestly, if Squall didn't know the answer, then neither did anyone else. "I don't know."

For the first time, Squall felt fearful that there was chance Seifer might die from this. A wound like this never would have seemed lethal, not to trained mercenaries. But, that was only because they had so many ways of healing themselves to fall back on. What happened when none of that worked? They became susceptible to death from even a minor injury, just like everyone else.

Shaking his dark strands in desperate thought, he forced himself not to become hindered by fear. He had to think, and fast.

Setting Seifer's head down, he noticed that those green eyes didn't seem to be focusing on him very well. Using his blade, he cut off long strips from the discarded trench coat. Wrapping the strips as a make shift bandage, around the blond's broad torso and shoulder, Squall was grateful that First Aid had been a required course.

Tying it off tightly, hoping to stop as much blood flow as possible, he pressed a hand against where the wound was. When Seifer didn't respond to the pain, he turned the again unconscious man's face toward himself. Giving the firm jaw a harsh slap, he ordered, "Seifer! Wake up!"

When there was no response, he felt for the man's pulse again. The heart was still strumming away, though he felt rising panic at the noticeably weakened beat.

Turning away from the knight for the first time, Squall stood up and faced the motionless group of people around him. Everyone seemed to have rushed from his or her post and boarded the now motionless float. The noise from the receding crowd suddenly filled his ears. Glaring at the unhelpful group, he stated, "We need Dr. Odine. Selphie hurry up and take us there."

"What's wrong with him?" Quistis asked, taking a tentative step forward.

"If I knew, I would have fixed it!" Squall spat harshly, unable to contain his erratic feelings. Turning his gaze down to the blond, he thought furiously. What was going on? It was a simple gunshot wound, why wasn't it healing? "Irvine, what sort of bullets might do this?"

Running a hand through auburn hair, the gunman's face contorted with concentration. "I don't know."

"Laguna," Squall called to his father. "What weapons have been developed to be used against a sorceress? What prevents magic use and the aide of potions?"

No one was able to supply an answer. All they could do was wait until they reach Dr. Odine, which was taking far too long. The streets were too crowded.

Making sure the least amount of blood was lost, Squall sat beside the knight. Checking for a pulse habitually, he was mentally cursing at his own foolishness. The shot had probably been intended for Seifer from the very beginning. The lack of uproar over Ultimecia's knight being in Esthar shouldn't have been relieving, it should have been a warning. Anybody who was seriously going to do something about the knight's presence would never have been public about it. And to think that no one in Esthar, of all places, would be opposed was ridiculous.

Squall sat in a waiting room. Arms folded, he balled his fists so that his nails dug into his palms. Staring blankly down at the floor, he listened to Odine's words.

The bullet extracted successfully, he wondered at the doctor's less than enthused expression. The operation had been dangerous considering Seifer's unstable vitals. At any given moment, the knight could have woken up, and with no more than a local anesthetic, the blond wouldn't have felt too good. Luckily, nothing like that happened.

However, there were complications. The amount of blood loss was due to some thinning effect the bullet had. It was apparent that the enchanted ammunition had some unknown status effects, but the thought that even Dr. Odine wouldn't know anything had never occurred.

The doctor expressed his own concern over not being able to procure an antidote to any time soon.

As the short frizzy haired man spoke in that nasally voice, Squall wondered whether any of this was real. It was surreal. The foggy haze of disbelief wouldn't lift. Everything had happened so fast, he didn't have time to think or absorb it.

The last time he'd been in this facility had been to rescue Rinoa from being sealed. Now, he had similar feelings of that day coursing through him. Having condemned Rinoa to a lifeless fate, he'd felt the same disbelief he did now.

The difference was, instead of guilt wrenching his heart, he felt sorrow. It crushed his chest, making it hard to breath, and squeezed his heart like a vice. Was this seriously happening?

There were two options. Neither of which he liked, but the choice was easy to make.

With the unknown enchantment taking effect, coursing freely through Seifer's body, there was a guarantee of death for the blond. Even with the wound stitched, blood seeped out, unable to clot. The angle of the bullet had bypassed the heart, but traveled just far enough to puncture the left lung. With internal bleeding and no way to stop it, Seifer was slowly drowning. Aside from creating a complete resistance to magic and items, the warped enchantment was poisoned. Nothing complicated or difficult about the poison, not like the blood thinning aspect. But, antidotes would work, which meant the blond's stamina was being worn away bit by bit.

So, one choice was to let Seifer be, while Dr. Odine tried to analyze the bullet. There was some hope in the fact that Irvine had gone back to the scene and retrieved the actual gun, but it was a slim chance. The usually confident doctor had been truthful about having to start from square one, and admitting that it could take quite a lot of time.

If they left Seifer as he was, then the ex-knight would die.

This left one other option. They could seal the blond, the same way they did a sorceress. The short man assured that it was a simple process. Apparently the doctor seemed to think Squall knew nothing about it.

Suspended between life and death, the body frozen, Seifer would be sealed. This would buy all the time needed. For a situation such as this, it was the best solution.

"Do it," Squall answered, interrupting the white haired man's explanation on the process.

Falling silent, the doctor scratched his frizzy hair. "Well, you see…." he trailed off, implying that there was yet another problem.

"What is it?" the brunet questioned sternly.

Flinching slightly at the Commander's tone, the old man replied, "He refuses to be sealed."

"So do it anyway. He's in not condition to make such a decision," Squall said.

"He's qualified enough. His vitals are stabilized as best they're going to get, and he's shown no loss of cognitive function."

"He's an idiot," Squall assured, "Do it anyway."

"Well-" the doctor began but was cut off by the President's son.

Standing swiftly, Squall glared down at the doctor, instilling fear. "He'll die if you don't. Do it now!"

"Squall," a deep and calm voice called from the doorway on the other side of the small waiting room. Laguna walked closer, distress evident in those emotional green eyes. "Dr. Odine can't do it unless Seifer consents."

Growling in distaste, Squall strode away from his approaching father toward Seifer's room. Brusquely entering, he slammed the door shut before stalking to the blond's bedside.

Before he even reached Seifer's side, soft and slightly gurgled chuckling reached his ears.

"Come to yell at me?" Seifer hissed out. The knight was finding it extremely difficult to breath, let alone speak clearly. With only one good lung, the other was practically useless.

"Why won't you let Odine seal you?" Squall questioned, anger evident in his tone.

"'Cause the doc doesn't know when I'll be revived. I can't take the chance of waking up fifty years from now," the blond spoke solemnly.

Hitting the mattress with his fist, Squall asked incredulously, "So, you'd rather die?"

"It was good, our time together, right?" Seifer spoke vaguely, his tone rhetorical.

Narrowing his eyes, Squall stepped closer. "Yeah," he mumbled. He hated how Seifer made it seem like one big reflection on the past, as though them being together had ended. As much as he wanted to yell at the arrogant and stubborn knight, he wouldn't risk such an act. From here, Seifer had nowhere to go but down hill, and he wouldn't risk speeding that up.

Green eyes met sorrowful blue. Such an expressive face was a rare sight on the brunet. "I'd rather die, than live in a future without you," Seifer explained.

"You're an idiot!" Squall shouted. "It won't be that long. Dr. Odine might be insane, but he's a genius. With unlimited money and resources, he'll have it all figured out in a week."

"No, he won't," Seifer replied. Attempting to sit up, the blond began to cough. A fit overtook him as blood covered his lips and hand.

Turning to get Dr. Odine, Squall was surprised at the firmness of the hand that grabbed his wrist. Seeing the blond settle down, he returned to help him lay back. "What don't I know?" he asked. There was too much conviction in the blond's belief that it would be the distant future in which the doctor would figure out how to counter the bullet's effects.

"Because he's obligated to tell me the full truth. Trust me, for a man as confident in his abilities as I am in mine, he's lacking all confidence in figuring this out in less than a lifetime."

"You know something," Squall accused.

With a weak glare, Seifer frowned at the brunet's persistent nature. "He developed it. There is no reversing the effects." Had Odine explained this to the Commander, there was a good chance the man wouldn't be alive.

"So, you're just going to die?" With a shake of his head, chocolate locks splaying at odd angles, Squall spoke with the same incredulity as before.

"Rather than wake up and not be able to see you, or anyone else again?" Seifer looked earnestly at the uncharacteristically emotional man. "Yeah, I am going to die." With a scoff that sounded more like a cough, Seifer sank limply against the bed. "To think I'd go down so easy. I don't even get to fight the asshole who shot me."

"You're an idiot!" Squall yelled. Head bowed, he clutched the blanket that covered half the man's form. "Why the hell did you get in the way?"

"Hey," Seifer soothed. Green eyes widened at the first traces of tears that ran down pale cheeks. "Squall, don't cry." Bewildered, the knight was at a loss. Reaching out, he tugged at a slim wrist.

Watered blue eyes snapped up in realization. "What if we're both sealed?" Squall questioned hopefully, his tearful eyes lighting up.

Not responding, Seifer directed the brunet to come closer.

Resistant, Squall protested, "You're in no shape."

"Leonhart, get in this fucking bed before I overexert myself trying to force you," Seifer demanded.

Reluctantly, Squall crawled carefully to lie beside the knight. With the new prospect of being sealed together, Squall rubbed at his cheeks with blushing shame. He hadn't cried since he was four years old, and even then he didn't think he'd had any excuse.

"I have to tell Dr. Odine," the brunet reasoned. The faster they did it, the better condition Seifer would be in when they were revived.

Directing the stubborn lion's head to lay against his chest, Seifer pressed his lips to the Commander's soft hair. "No," he answered, both to Squall leaving to get the doc and to the idea of them both being sealed.

"Seifer!" Squall cried, realization setting in for the first time. Leaning up, he stared into adamant green eyes. "This isn't happening," he whispered in disbelief.

"Hey Princess, do you think it's easy for me to accept?" Seifer retorted. As his lungs protested his continued speech, he forced himself to take a long and steady breath. Odine said it would less than an hour before he'd be unable to breath. Slowly but surely, his lung was filling up and the poison was burning his body. If he'd been any less of a fighter, he wouldn't have made it through the surgery.

"But you have," Squall accused. He was unable to grasp how the cocky blond could seem so accepting of his eminent death. 'This isn't happening,' his mind repeated over and over.

"Will you stay here?" Seifer requested.

Squall stared blankly, impassive as ever, as though the icy wall had been erected once again. The only betrayal of the wrenching reality settling in was the tears that once again spilled over thick lashes. He didn't want this. He didn't want any of this. This wasn't happening. It was a stupid parade, with a stupid float, and the fucking winter festival. He was in Esthar to show his father some semblance of caring feelings, not to lose the person he cared for the most. The person he loved.

"I love you," Squall blurted out, his voice urgent. If this was it, then he needed Seifer to know. His heart hurt. It was beating fiercely as something seemed to be crushing it. He didn't understand it, but he seemed to know it without a doubt. "I've always loved you."

"I know," Seifer assured. Reaching out, he swiped at the freely flowing tears. "I've always known."

"Then why…." Squall grasped for some reason. If they loved each other, then why was something like this happening? If he'd finally found someone, the only person he could be himself with and love like this, then why did something like this happen. Seifer couldn't be dying.

How many times had they declared that they would kill the other? How many times had he heard the cocky blond spouting off to senior cadets, 'Careful not to kill 'em, Leonhart's defeat is mine.' And, how many times had he retorted, 'Almasy, I'll be sure to get teary eyed at your funeral.' The irony of a stony faced Squall ever crying over Seifer was not lost as the brunet lay beside the blond with tears streaming down his cheeks. They were kids then, but that didn't change the fact that someone else wasn't allowed to interfere like this.

"If anybody asks, I died valiantly protecting your pretty little ass," Seifer joked.

At a loss for words, which wasn't uncommon for him, Squall buried his face against Seifer's neck. Clinging to the man, he willed the blond to get better. Something would stop it. Something always seemed to save the day at the last moment. Even if Hyne herself appeared and helped, something would happen.

Squall kept this mantra up, repeating it in his mind. 'This wasn't happening… Something will stop it…' Never in his life had he felt so helpless. Fighting did no good. And, he wasn't some genius scientist that could find the answer.

With his ear pressed against the knight's chest, he listened to the congested breathing and the slowing beat of the heart. His mantra changed. 'I love him,' he repeated, as though affirming this would be the solution.

Even to the very last beat, Seifer never seemed to release the hold on his body. Furled closely, he huddled warmly against the blond. The fact that the man was dying just wouldn't set in. Though he didn't seem able to stop crying, perhaps the tears had been building for fourteen years. And, the pain in his chest wouldn't go away. It was hurting more with each slowing beat of Seifer's heart.

Willing the whole situation not to be happening, Squall rested beside Seifer as though they were in bed on any other night. Having slept with each other every night for over a month, it was second nature. Now, Squall found himself drifting, seeking the comfort that only Seifer brought. Even as it became apparent that his body was the only one providing warmth, he remained. No one came in, they were left undisturbed.

At some point, his tears dried up. He began to whisper Seifer's name, just like he did so often in the middle of the night. Regardless of the fact that the blond had never before left him sleeping alone, he'd often call out just to reassure himself that Seifer was still there. He kept repeating the name, because unlike the other times, the protective knight didn't stir immediately and tighten the warm hold of strong arms. It wasn't like Seifer to be such a heavy sleeper, but he didn't stop. One of these times, Seifer would have to wake up and respond.

It became cold. It wasn't the usual feeling that he enjoyed from a crisp wind or when visiting Shiva. It was hollow, and painful. It was cold. The absence of heat, the absence of Seifer. What had gone wrong? Why was this happening? The easiest thing to do was to refuse to believe any of it. If he scrunched his eyes closed, and remained close enough, then the warmth would return and none of this would have happened.

"My lion," the mournful voice of the Ice Queen echoed.

Refusing to open his eyes, Squall didn't move. Never mind the slack hold of Seifer's arms, or the fact that he couldn't hear the strumming heart in that toned chest. Whatever happened to that corny theme in Rinoa's romance novels, love conquering all?

"Open your eyes," Shiva's voice spoke again with the same sad tone.

Squall remained still, afraid to shatter his insane conclusions by seeing the truth.

"My lion, I'm sorry," his Guardian apologized. "Open your eyes, it isn't real."

"No," Squall muttered, curling impossibly closer to the lame form beside him.

"I didn't realize… your love. Please little one, open your eyes," Shiva pleaded.

At the sad urgency in Shiva's voice, Squall was tempted, but in the end he refused.

"Squall," the unmistakable baritone voice of Seifer called.

Gray-blue eyes snapped open. His senses were thrown as his eyes saw something completely unexpected. The room was dark, no light from any source but the pale moon. Concerned green eyes were what caught his attention the most. The sudden flush of warmth made his breath hitch.

His heart beat more wildly against the imaginary vice. His chest heaved painfully, as his mind flooded with hope. A dream? He didn't dream, not ever. Recalling Shiva's words, he realized the Guardian had played some sick joke on him.

"Hey," Seifer cooed, a deep frown settled in. With a calloused thumb, he reached out to swipe tears from Squall's moist cheeks. "What's wrong?" he questioned. The day he saw Squall crying was the day he died.

"I-" Squall floundered for a suitable explanation. Uncaring of his tears, he wondered if this was a dream also. Clenching his jaw, he fought the surge of emotions that threatened to overpower him. Swallowing thickly, he refused to cry like a four-year-old little boy. Instead, he latched onto the idea that Shiva had over stepped her boundaries and none of it had happened. Throwing himself closer, his arms wrapped around Seifer's neck. From the warmth, to the steady pulse, he wallowed in relief. "I love you," he said, his voice muffled against the man's skin.

Seifer tensed under the brunet's desperate hold. The younger man had been unusually fitful in his hold. Waking up, he'd been disturbed to find Squall squirming closer instead of away with tears pouring from closed eyes. He'd felt alarm when the sleeping lion hadn't woken up right away. And when those soft lips parted to form his name, repeating it like some sorrowful prayer, he'd begun to shake the boy awake.

Now, awake, Squall seemed bewildered, as though expecting to have woken up alone or beside somebody else. There was a moment of jealousy, where he wondered just who Squall thought should be laying next to him. But, it left as soon as the lithe form hugged him.

The blond's heart skipped a beat when he heard the muffled words of the brunet. Forcing the pale boy off him, he sat up and held Squall out at arms length. "What?" he asked, wanting to hear the words clearly.

"I love you," Squall said again, without hesitation. Unblinking, he squirmed from Seifer's hands and moved closer. Pressing his lips to the stunned blond's, he kissed the ex-knight.

Breaking away for a moment, Seifer affirmed, "For now, I won't ask." With that, he pulled the brunet to himself roughly and plundered that sweet mouth. For a man who had recently not known if he was capable of love, Seifer was beyond elated that Squall now spoke those words with absolute truth.


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter Forty-Six

Morning Rituals

Sunday mornings were Seifer's favorite time of the week, at least starting that Sunday.

With an entire day open to goofing off and basically having no obligations other than watching Squall, the blond was grinning madly before the brunet even woke up.

As concerned as he was over what had happened during the night, he couldn't help but feel elated.

Covered in the blanket, the little lion slept soundly, curled against him. The knight had found himself unable to sleep when he could wallow in the ridiculous feeling of happiness. Propped against the headrest, his ears took in the sound of the icy storm outside and near inaudible breaths of the smaller man. Stroking the head of silky dark hair, which lay against his stomach, he couldn't wipe the grin off his face.

Squall loved him.

Their relationship was practically a defiance of the fates, the mismatched pair who scarcely agreed on anything. Yet, there was no one else better suited for either man.

Confident and cocky, Seifer was an overall very dominating person. But, if he settled down with some submissive lover, he'd lose the fighter inside of him. Dating was fun, especially if he actually liked the girl he was with, but the idea of spending more than a few days with any of the young ladies he'd wooed was the biggest turn off ever. Even the clingy Rinoa had known that being together for more than a couple days on the weekend would cause Seifer to break it off.

Sex was usually the main objective, though he had met a few women who carried interesting enough conversations to keep him around for simple company. He wasn't a lecher or ladies man like Kinneas. He had high standards, even when looking for a one-night stand.

On rare occasions, he'd expressed feelings of love. He even remembered whom it was to. Wendy, Terra, and Rinoa. Wendy had been the first woman he'd slept with. At fourteen, she'd been twice his age. His words of affection had been a spur of the moment, a result of a clouded mind coming down from an orgasm. He hadn't meant it, and Wendy knew that. Terra might have been someone he might have grown to love, but he'd been premature in his declaration to keep the girl happy. A discontent girlfriend was not something he enjoyed dealing with. And then there was Rinoa. The raven-haired girl had also been a case of appeasement. He'd been a bit depressed after a three-day excursion with the chatterbox, and he needed to say something so that when they met the next time, he wouldn't be in the doghouse.

Now, he rested, half sitting, half lying down. His formal rival sleeping contently in his hold, and he actually felt that clichéd romance story feeling. He wasn't on drugs, but he felt like he'd taken a whole bottle of anti-depressants. His heart strummed, and he couldn't stop smiling.

If Squall woke up and found him in such a… giddy state, then he'd be nursing a black eye or sore bump on the head. Still, he couldn't help it. It was becoming a habit of his to lose control of himself around Squall.

Unable to stop fighting and trying to out-do the brunet. Unable to stop following the Commander's moves after the war. Unable to stay away. Unable to stop thinking lewd thoughts. Unable to keep his lips off his lifetime rival, even if it meant using force. Unable to settle for anything but everything.

He had no defenses around Squall, just his naturally arrogant and boisterous manner, which seemed to, in turn, tear down all of the brunet's defenses.

He was selfish. But, he felt no guilt about it. There was no person alive who could possibly resist the temptation of having Squall. His selfishness grew because of Squall, learning that he'd been the first person to be so intimate, to take the brunet. Now, he was the first person the young Commander ever loved. Selfishly, he would take it all and still want more.

Squall was his. His claim was staked not just with the marks of ravishing that pale, lithe body, but from the honest utterance of endearment that had come from those soft lips in the middle of the night. And because he was a selfish man, he'd never let go, even if it made the Commander's life difficult.

It was partly Squall's fault, for being so damn alluring. He couldn't think about anything else for more than ten minutes at a time.

He would have to talk with Trepe, and square things away. His contract was basically just until the stalker was taken care of, but he wouldn't leave now. So, he'd see if the contract couldn't be altered. He'd suggest remaining as the Commander's bodyguard indefinitely.

Squall began to stir. Lightly, he kept his hand twined in soft hair, allowing for the waking man to move. Slowly, that refined face looked up at him. Bright blue eyes blinked a few times before the haze of slumber lifted completely.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," Seifer greeted, still smiling like a mad man.

Squall hesitated, conflicting emotions battling within. Part of him wanted to tell the blond to wipe that silly grin off his face, but at the same time he wanted to pounce the man and hold on.

Shiva was going to pay. While he didn't think that she intended for it to turn out the way it had, his Guardian Force had overstepped her boundaries. Though, he was rather grateful in a relieved sense. Now, he knew without a doubt how he felt, even if he'd wound up acting like a tearful fool.

Settling for an in between reaction, Squall frowned.

"No good morning kiss?" Seifer chastised with mock feelings of hurt. Shifting his hand, he gently cupped the back of a slender neck and directed Squall to move closer.

Complying, Squall broke away from his curled sleeping form and propped himself upright to bring his lips chastely to Seifer's. Before the knight could deepen the contact, he pulled back and stared into mischievous jade eyes. "Good morning," he greeted in return.

"I won't ask about last night," Seifer stated randomly, his eyes becoming serious.

Brows furrowed, Squall wondered at the knight's statement. When a dawning understanding came, he gave a small smile. It seemed the blond knew him better than he knew himself. He hadn't even begun to question whether or not he should explain about the nightmarish dream. And, before he could even worry, Seifer prevented any trouble from forming.

'Stupid knight,' the brunet's mind berated. Why did Seifer have to turn out to be so good for him? If it had just been sex, then maybe his emotions wouldn't be so flippant and out of whack. But no… that would have been too simple. Beneath that arrogance, buried where even he didn't see all the time, the blond had to be considerate, caring, gentle, and almost sweet. It was like some recipe for the perfect man, character flaws aside. The fact that Seifer was extremely handsome and that the sex was unbelievably good made the knight irresistible.

Now he was in love, for so many odd and conflicting reasons as well as unknown ones.

Shifting to swing a leg over the reclining knight, Squall straddled the man. Seifer still wore all his clothes, though they were wrinkled and out of place. He, on the other hand, was completely naked, especially as the blanket fell from his form while moving atop the blond.

With an air of curiosity, Squall took one of Seifer's hands in his own. Bringing it to his chest, he flattened the warm and rough palm over his heart. With a calm, and almost serene, expression he spoke in slight wonderment, "So, this is love."

Green eyes widened in surprise. Seifer could feel it clearly. Beneath the toned muscle of the fighter's chest, was the fast paced beating of a heart. Gulping, he simply stared for an elongated moment, losing himself in those bright eyes.

Eventually, Seifer pulled his hand away and wrapped his arms around the lithe torso. Bringing Squall against himself with a bump, he hugged the bare man tightly. "If you keep this up, I doubt I'll let you leave the bedroom ever again," he said, pressing his mouth against the smooth junction of Squall's shoulder and neck.

"I need a shower," Squall replied, effectively calling for an end to the sickly sweet moment being shared.

With an impish grin, Seifer conceded to the replacement of emotional boundaries. At this point, it didn't matter if Squall appeared composed on the outside, since the brunet had just shown him what was really going on beneath it all. Besides, if they weren't going to exchange in the lover's banter about who loved who more, then they could begin to act out every perverted little fantasy in his head.

From food and aprons to showers and soap, Seifer was making a mental list of all the things they could do on a Sunday free of work. And, that was just within the confines of the apartment.

His grin widened when he considered wooing the Commander into doing it in the Headmaster's office, or in the conference room. Garden was a big facility, and like any alpha male, he felt inclined to marking the territory by screwing the brunet in each place. Though, Raijin and Fujin would probably kill him.

However, at the moment, since the brunet wouldn't agree to most of his ideas, he'd settle for another enjoyable morning shower.

"A shower sounds like a good idea," Seifer commented, nipping at a collarbone.

With a small smirk, Squall was forced to admit that he just might have as big an appetite for sex as the blond. While he wasn't keeping score, he'd say that for all the times Seifer had wanted to go at it, he'd been more than willing.

Grinding his hips down, Squall replied, "I suppose we agree on a few things at least."

Sucking on the tender flesh of Squall's neck, Seifer gave a soft groan. He doubted he'd ever be able to run any marathons when he couldn't keep his hands off his new sex kitten. Not that it mattered. Who would want to go running, when they could screw Commander Leonhart?

They never made it to the shower, though they were close.

Seifer took Squall on the bathroom floor. Too involved with each other, they'd grown impatient. The brunet was prostrated before the knight. The lithe form arched flexibly, chest pressed the floor while Seifer took the man from behind.

Moans of pleasure reverberated off the tiled room, sending trills of fulfillment through them as they heard what they were doing to each other.

Squall didn't just love Seifer. He loved what the blond did to him. He couldn't get enough of being filled and thrust into. The painful bliss and ecstasy brought with each violent thrust was addicting. It was in this way that he'd first learned to relax and let go, to accept the mind numbing lust.

Prompted by Seifer to repeat the simple three-word phrase of endearment, Squall was taken again under the shower's spray.

Selphie was in a particularly good mood that morning. Marching along the circular path that wrapped around Balamb Garden's fountain, she kicked her booted feet out rigidly with a gay smile on her face.

Her new favorite person was going to meet her near the elevator. As she drew closer, oblivious to the odd stares from every mulling student and instructor, she giggled at her own musings and continued to march like a soldier in line.

Stopping abruptly, forcing a few people to suddenly change direction to avoid hitting her, she waved a hand above her head madly and called out, "Good morning!"

Loosely bound dark hair fluttered as Laguna turned around at the singsong greeting. Smiling brightly in return, he waved in a bit of a goofy manner.

The copper haired ball of energy had been up since the crack of dawn, beginning preparation for the winter festival. When word of Esthar's President arriving reached her ears, she'd been psyched to enlist the help of the carefree man. Laguna shared her interest in such activities. And, while he wasn't as much a fanatic as she was, it did mean some good brainstorming and cheerful help.

It also meant bringing the older man to see his son, and wrangling a free breakfast out of Squall. As it was, Zell had some crazy inkling to take the head chef on a weekend trip to his mother's house, something about the ultimate cook off. So, without Greta, the cafeteria's food wasn't nearly as good. Squall's was better to begin with, not to mention free, but it wasn't as though they could all just show up every time they were hungry.

Momentarily sidetracked in her thinking as she bound up the stairs to greet the loveable former Galbadian soldier, she asked, "Where did Squall learn to cook?"

Unfazed by the odd question, Laguna smiled while answering, "I have no idea."

"I want waffles," she thought aloud, rubbing her stomach with one hand and pressing the button on the elevator's panel with the other.

Laguna may not have known his son very well, which was something he desperately wanted to rectify, but he did know that the Commander didn't enjoy surprises. "He knows we're coming, right?" he questioned.

As the elevator door opened with a ding and the pair stepped in, Selphie answered happily, "Nope"

If she was lucky, then when she made Laguna wait in the hallway and went in ahead to tell Squall, she just might catch the two kissing again.

In her own little world, she gave off a squeal of excitement, startling an uninformed Laguna.

His smile fading, Laguna questioned, "Are you alright?"

Overexcited, Selphie grinned broadly. "I just really want waffles," she covered. It wasn't exactly a lie.

With determination, Selphie marched into Squall's apartment uninvited. Outside, she left a half assured Laguna, the man still afraid of upsetting the Commander and losing brownie points.

"Hello?" she whispered meekly. "Squall? I just came to tell you, your dad's here and I wanted waffles…." She let her words trail off, barely loud enough for even her to hear.

Satisfied that she'd made a proper enough greeting, warning anyone within a foot of herself why she was there, the mischievous girl crept into the living room.

She could get into so much trouble, but that was half the fun.

When she reached the couch, the sound of the shower running reached her ears. With all three doors along the wall closed, she didn't know who was where. It wasn't like Squall to sleep any later than six, and it was already eight. So, she figured that the Commander was in the shower.

Creeping closer, Selphie took unnecessary steps that balanced precariously on the balls of her feet. Her hair bounced as she continually turned her head to check vacant corners.

She would check door number one first, Squall's room. Then, she'd work her way down.

Irvine would kill her if he knew what she was up to. 'But, I had to,' the copper haired girl reasoned for future excuse. 'Poor Laguna, wanting to see his only son,' she thought with sympathy.

Of course she'd play the mediator. She couldn't let Laguna not see Squall, but she also couldn't not warn Squall before hand. Logically, this meant letting herself in and perhaps catching her new favorite couple in the act of morning smooching.

Before she could even turn the handle on Squall's door, a shocking sound reached her ears.

"Aah! Seifer, harder!"

"So fucking tight!"

Green eyes widened while Selphie gave an audible slap of her hand against her mouth.

Maybe she'd heard wrong.

Taking a step closer to the bathroom, she nearly keeled over at the continued sounds of sex. Gulping, Selphie felt her cheeks burn. Frozen in place, she was incapable to moving.

Both voices were recognizable, but nothing like what she'd heard before.

"Call my name," came a deeper, huskier voice that belonged to Seifer.

Before Selphie's mind could even scoff at the idea of Squall ever calling out the knight's name, she heard the slightly higher pitched voice of her Commander respond immediately.

"Seifer!" came the cry, sheer ecstasy riddling the wanton voice.

And that was when she heard the thumping of some wall within the bathroom.

Shocked to a standstill, Selphie was completely grounded. This was not what she'd expected.

Without conscious thought, her other hand came up and slapped her own cheek. Startled back to reality, she turned tail and fled.

'Oh, oh, oh' her mind kept repeating, unable to find proper words even in her head. She so beat Quistis with this one. The Head Instructor might have seen the pair kiss twice, but she practically saw them doing something way more adult.

Once the door opened, she ran out, not stopping until she was halfway down the hall. Remembering about Laguna, she stopped and turned to trot back to a confused president.

"Sorry, now's not a good time," she said with an obviously forced chuckle.

"Oh," the longhaired man said with an understanding tone of dejection.

Realizing the misunderstanding the cheerful girl exclaimed while waving her hands frantically, "No, no, it's not like that."

"He's not sick, is he?" Laguna questioned, jumping from one conclusion to the next.

"No, just tired, I'm sure," she winced at the stretch her mind made to make her words true. It was plausible that after finishing what they were doing, the Commander might be tired. "He was up late fulfilling his duty." Leaving off the last part of, 'to his new boyfriend,', Selphie settled for telling the truth that her own mind construed. It was probably true, maybe. A lot of new couples started out hot and heavy. Considering the two rivals had been brought together by lust in the first place, it stood to reason that they were rutting like two cats in heat.

Selphie giggled at the idea of the Commander being in heat. She was so going to tease Squall.

Lost in reverie for a moment, Selphie didn't notice that Laguna was holding a hand out.

"Selphie," the laidback man called the girl to attention. Holding out a handkerchief, he offered it to her.

"What's this for?" she asked.

"Your nose is bleeding," he pointed out, even more confused that she hadn't even noticed. These kids that saved the world sure were weird, but if they were his son's friends, then it didn't matter. Kiros thought he was pretty weird at times, so it wasn't like he could be judgmental.

Blushing further, Selphie took the small cloth and wiped her nose. With a wave of the hand she motioned for the President to follow her.

"Where're we going?" Laguna asked, wondering if he'd be able to see Squall today. The way he'd left things in Dollet was kind of unsettling, and he wanted to smooth things over as soon as possible. He'd thought that when someone from Garden had given an invitation to stop by anytime and stay for the winter festival, that Squall had made some gesture.

Muffled with the cloth tissue against her nose, Selphie managed to say, "Quistis makes good eggs, and I have some bragging to do."

Confused, Laguna followed along, striding next to the short girl. With a shrug, he figured they could at least discuss more plans for the festival.

TBC…

A/N Sorry about the last chapter, I know it was mean. But, hey, no one died. Don't kill Shiva, she meant well. Well, now that I've dodged all the sharp and pointy objects thrown my way, I've written a fairly light hearted chapter. Things are going to come to an end, one way or the other… I just have to figure out how first. Hehe, well, thanks for all the reviews. I can't believe I got so many for one chapter… then again, I did kill Seifer off in a dream, which might explain a lot.


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter Forty-Seven

Shower Pains

"Was that Quistis?" Squall asked from the couch.

Seifer was in the kitchen, propped against the wall beside the window. "Yeah," he mumbled in dismay. Trepe had called his cell phone shortly after they'd taken a shower.

The Head Instructor had called to inform him that Laguna had arrived. Considering he'd suspected the President to show up no later than a day after the invitation was issued, he should have told everybody else.

Trepe's message had been short and blunt. She wanted them to get over to her apartment so she didn't have to babysit. Apparently, Tilmitt and the Commander's father were chattering at a super sonic rate about decorations. Like two peas in a pod, the age difference was not a factor when it came to cheery people and whatever it was that made cheery people super cheerful.

Pocketing the small phone in a comfortable pair of faded blue jeans, Seifer leaned forward and lazily straightened up. Squall was probably going to get moody about it, but he had to tell the brunet who had called for Loire to be here.

"She wants us to come over to her place," the blond said while approaching the couch.

Squall lay sprawled on his stomach, head resting on crossed forearms. It was difficult to remember the after effects of sex when the immediate effects felt so damn good. His ass was sore beyond being able to walk properly. He'd have to remind Seifer to not listen to him when he ordered the blond to go harder.

Gray-blue eyes stared off towards the TV screen, reading the text flashing across the bottom. He actually preferred to simply read lips while having the sound muted. It was less distracting for those around him anyway.

As he felt Seifer drawing closer, he was about to sit up when his eyes read the last tidbit of Timber's morning news.

Shifting abruptly, Squall shot up from his laying position. Wincing, he slowed down and eased himself to slouch against the armrest. Turning his head towards Seifer, he spoke, "My father's here."

"He's with Trepe and Tilmitt," Seifer explained. There was something he wanted to ask the brunet, but before that, he had to admit a bit more of the truth. "I asked Fujin to invite him for the festivities and stuff."

"Esthar's President, Laguna Loire, is on vacation. Seated presidential council Kiros Seagill will be managing state affairs alongside the vice president Ward Zabac. Timber would like to wish President Loire a fun time with his son during Balamb Garden's winter festival." Squall repeated the words he'd read just moments ago. How quickly the holidays became more of a burden.

"Huh," Seifer huffed, "I would of thought someone would be criticizing the guy for leaving like that."

"This is just Timber, they're a mass of sympathetic fools," Squall replied without any emotion.

Brows raised Seifer didn't oppose the brunet's opinion. "Then why do you watch their news?"

"Cause you can see through every media bias and they are the most up-to-date," the brunet replied logically.

Casting his gaze back toward the plasma screen on the wall, Squall sighed heavily. Bracing himself, he moved to stand up.

"Hey, you really shouldn't be moving around. I know I went overboard, so don't try an' hide it," the concerned knight urged.

With a sarcastic laugh, Squall rolled his eyes. "You give yourself too much credit. I wanted it, so shut up and give me your phone."

Grumbling, Seifer dug into his jean pocket and pulled out the device. Unamused at the brunet's defiance of the human body, he stepped closer to hand it over directly.

Squall frowned, but didn't say anything. Taking the phone, he flipped it open and dialed Quistis' number. Straightening up as much as he could, he slowly stepped around the couch. The borrowed gray hoodie sagged with excess material around his form. Wearing it managed to hide the fact that he walked with a bit of a hunch. With his baggiest pair of blue jeans, held to his waist with a belt, he actually felt comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he could be with a throbbing pain in his ass.

Seifer folded his arms across his chest. The sleeves of his black cotton shirt were bunged up to just below his elbow. With a mixture of satisfaction and guilt, he watched the brunet slowly walk towards the kitchen. Squall wouldn't say it, but no words were necessary. He'd pounded the poor kitten a little too roughly. Against his better judgment, he'd heeded the tempting man's words and thrust deeply without restraint. The end result had been a sated kitten that couldn't walk right.

The blond was mildly surprised that Squall hadn't blown up in his face about setting the problematic scenario up behind his back. But, he wasn't going to complain. He'd learned his lesson about mentioning things that the brunet had already forgotten to punish him for. The last time had been when he reminded the brunet that he hadn't been yelled at for not mentioning that Dollet's Governor had been killed. The devilish beauty had turned him on and then abandoned him while sporting a painful erection.

"It's me," the Commander's voice spoke softly from within the kitchen.

Curiously, Seifer followed Squall. Leaning against the doorway, he stared at the attractive Commander. Such pale and delicate facial features, and bright eyes that were alight in the daylight streaming in from the window. He definitely liked the way Squall looked in his clothes. It was cute, the manner in which his sweatshirt was too big. It didn't always register just how much smaller the brunet's stature was compared to his.

Though within hearing range, the soft and melodic voice washed over him without his mind comprehending any of it. His eyes were fixed on Squall, just soaking in the sight.

That lithe form, beneath the folds of clothing, fit perfectly against him. Choppy bangs fell forth, momentarily obscuring the younger man's vision before an elegant hand absently raked them back.

There was a break in the soothing speaking. Habitually, a soft bottom lip was nibbled on. Such small tendencies drove him insane, making blood rush south before he could even protest.

How could there have ever been a time when his eyes fell upon Squall without lust? His former playground archenemy had always held that alluring aura and those arousing good looks. And, where emotions were involved, no one else had ever made his blood boil with anger, want, and need.

Fourteen years was a lot of time to waste. Although, the end result had benefited them both as fighters, they could have shared each other's beds on so many occasions.

When next he heard the brunet's voice, the tone implying that the words had been directed to him, he snapped out of his thoughts and staring. "What?" he asked.

With mirth, Squall commented, "Careful, I'm rubbing off on you."

Straightening up, Seifer scratched the back of his blond hair. "It's hard to pay attention when my mind is constantly in the gutter," he replied, walking closer. Sneaking a hand beneath the draped hoodie and simple white shirt beneath it, he rubbed circles with his thumb against Squall's hip.

Squall didn't look up, knowing that craning his head back to look into the tall man's eyes meant standing with correct posture. Instead, he turned his gaze out the window. With a soft thud, he let his head fall against Seifer's broad chest.

"It's snowing," the brunet pointed out.

With a soft smile, Seifer wondered if Squall knew exactly what the simplest set of words could do to his heart. Bending his head down, he kissed soft chocolate colored locks. Still a little damp, he could smell the shampoo distinctly. It was clean and fresh.

Stilling the massage his thumb had been giving, he snaked his arm further around the slim waist. "Are you going to tell your father about us?" the blond questioned. It was something that he held more stock in than he should. Somehow, the idea that Squall would be willing to tell the older man, who wasn't as close as the rest of the orphanage gang, meant a lot. It was like the first step towards going public.

"Nnh," Squall mumbled in thought. Reaching his right hand down, he took the knight's left hand. Gently, he prodded his fingers against the calloused palm and directed Seifer to open his hand up. Easily entwining their fingers, he gave the hand a soft squeeze.

Seifer simply gulped, the back of his neck felt heated. Hyne, he loved Sundays. The little lion pressed against him, holding his hand, he was more content with each passing moment.

"You should listen more," Squall spoke at length. "I asked Quistis to come over here instead. I think it'd be a good opportunity to say something to Laguna about ourselves."

Grinning foolishly, Seifer dipped his head to nuzzle a pale neck. Even with the hooded collar in the way, he attacked the pale skin with fervor.

"Ngh," Squall flinched against the feel. "You haven't shaved," he said. The blond remained undeterred, even as rough stubble tickling him.

"Everyone is ticklish," Seifer stated matter-of-factly.

"No, they're not," Squall refuted.

"Then they have sensitive spots. Places that drive the body wild," the blond countered while lapping his tongue along the underside of Squall's jaw.

Forced to tilt his head back in order to comply the blond's mouth, Squall brought his other hand up to lightly grips the black shirt across Seifer's chest.

Giving the brunet a brief break, he spoke, "I've only found three so far."

Brows furrowed, Squall was about to question what the ex-knight was getting at, even with a slightly apprehensive feeling setting in, but Seifer silenced him. The taller man suddenly tightened his grip, pressing a hand against his lower back. With the shell of his ear licked and his lobe teased between teeth, he stiffened at the surprising shivers that rippled through his body. Part of him wanted to pull away, but it was too pleasant of a sensation.

Seifer smirked. He'd found out early on that the Commander's ears were touch sensitive, specifically the left one. Sliding his tongue along the appendage, he nipped at the soft tip.

"Seifer," Squall clenched the blond's shirt and tightened his hand holding Seifer's. With his eyes tightly shut, he fought the sudden weakness that the shivers were causing him.

"That's one," Seifer whispered. With a returned squeeze to the hand that was gripping his tightly, he signaled Squall to let go. Slipping beneath the sweatshirt and thin cotton shirt underneath, Seifer slid his hand along the soft and warm flesh of the brunet's torso. He moved higher, the gray hoodie riding up and exposing toned abs. Just as his fingers grazed a nipple, he again tongued Squall's ear.

Gasping, Squall arched into the touch of the hand on his chest, while gripping the dark shirtsleeve of Seifer's upper arm. His knees felt weak, as though he might not be able to keep standing. It might have been due to his inability to stand straight in the first place, but he doubted that was the true cause. His mind was at a loss for coherent thoughts.

Humming out a deep note of pleasure, Seifer whispered, "That's two." The hand he kept at Squall's lower back, traveled down, teasingly pushing against the belt that kept him from going any further. Instead, he smoothed over the denim material and carefully groped a cheek of the sweetly defined backside he so loved to fondle. Pressing a finger against where the cleft would be, he ran it along, making sure to press just hard enough for the implication to be made, but not so hard as to cause pain to the abused area.

Seifer's hands continued their onslaught while he worried a silky lobe. Moments later, his hands became occupied with holding Squall up as the brunet collapsed against him.

Mesmerized by the desire ridden blue eyes that stared up at him, as though begging him to keep going and never stop, Seifer held Squall firmly. "That's three," he growled before attacking inviting lips.

The idea that they should not be kissing so deeply when it could obviously lead to other things didn't register in Squall's dazed mind. And, Seifer was simply never inclined to stop doing something that felt good, regardless the consequences.

However, the abrupt knocking at the door brought them both back to reality. Breaking apart, they shot similar gazes toward the small opening by the counter. From the kitchen, they couldn't see the door, but the lack of sound from it opening assured that no one was going to barge in without being invited.

"I want waffles!" came a cry from outside the door.

Squall blinked at the whining voice of Selphie. It was hard to hide his amusement when he didn't have to worry about anyone seeing it. With a small smile he shook his head at the energetic young woman's antics.

When an impatient pounding sounded, Seifer called out, "Tilmitt, just get your ass in here."

Moments later, the door swished open.

Casting a fleeting glance towards Seifer, Squall asked for permission to handle things. The situation of telling his father about them was a bit more complicated than simply blurting it out.

Frowning slightly, Seifer was compelled to let the little lion do whatever that hidden heart of gold wanted to. Reaching out he ruffled the dark mop of hair.

The Commander took a minute to think of the right words to say to Laguna. They hadn't left off on a very good note, and this wasn't the sort of matter he was good at handling.

When the group came into view, Squall saw the slightly nervous edge in his father's hazel-green eyes.

Quistis and Laguna seated themselves on the stools by the counter, while Selphie skipped further to the kitchen's entryway.

"Waffles," the copper-haired girl demanded with a soft stomping of her sock clad foot.

Scampering around Selphie, Gabriel swayed into the kitchen as an unofficial fourth member of the group.

Squall, in a rare show of affection, played along with Selphie's mood, which meant dismissing her. Completely ignoring the girl, he forced himself to walk erect and approach the counter. Seated on the other side, he greeted Laguna before anyone else. "I hope it's not too much trouble, getting away like this."

The President's reaction was delayed, but the man eventually replied with earnest assurance. "No, not at all."

"Then you'll stay awhile?" Squall asked.

Dark brows drew together, a mixture between confusion and sadness. With a small nod, the ex-Galbadian soldier looked like he was a kid desperately trying not to get his hopes up too high.

In a never before accounted display, Squall beamed at his father. "I'm glad then," he said softly.

Quistis very nearly toppled off the stool. Mouth agape, she was stunned with several thoughts flying through her head. Aside from wondering what brought such a display on, she was also cursing that the brunet didn't smile like that more often. He had such a nice smile, and it was being wasted.

Soft green eyes suddenly became rather watered.

Before Squall could falter at the response, the longhaired man suddenly stood up and excused himself to check something in his eye.

Stepping up behind Squall, Seifer goaded, "Jeez Princess, you didn't have to make him cry." At the moment, he was more than a little jealous of the older man, who'd been the focus of that smile.

"Wah," Selphie cried, bounding in the kitchen and throwing her arms around Squall. "You made him happy," the happy girl exclaimed.

Squall hadn't quite expected to have the small girl's weight thrown at him. Though it should have been easy enough to handle, the sudden flaring of pain in his lower back caused him to wince and stagger back into the blond knight behind. Immediately, strong hands gripped his shoulders and supported him.

Done with her hug, Selphie only noticed the odd reaction of the Commander after letting go. "Are you alright?" she questioned with concern, seeing pain in Squall's eyes before it was quickly masked.

"Fine," Squall sighed out, relaxing a bit.

"He fell. Everyone has their klutzy moments, you know how it is," Seifer excused.

Quistis scoffed. "I've never seen Squall so much as drop his pencil in class, let alone fall."

The blond knight glared at the Head Instructor, as though offended she didn't believe him. "Showers can be slippery," Seifer reasoned smugly.

There was a suspicious nature about the way both girls suddenly blanched at Seifer's words. The two young men stared from one pale face to the other. When Selphie began to blush, Squall turned to Seifer, expecting the knight to give him some answer. At Seifer's shrug, Squall turned back to Selphie. He was about to ask her if something was the matter, but she began to mutter something.

"Umm, how about breakfast?" the green eyed girl asked politely.

Squall nodded, still eyeing the two women curiously. Before he moved away from Seifer, he stared down at the sweatshirt he was wearing. Silently, he debated taking it off. It was inconvenient to cook in, with the baggy sleeves. And, he didn't want to stain it, since it wasn't his. But, if Quistis and Selphie acted so oddly about him falling, then what would they say when they saw him walking?

"I don't care if you get anything on it," Seifer stated, stepping towards Tilmitt and motioning for her to exit the kitchen.

The brunet cast a glance towards the side of the fridge. Gabriel was pawing at the dangling strings of the hanging apron. With a shake of his head, Squall said, "It'll catch on fire."

"Only if you're Tilmitt," Seifer stated.

"Hey," Selphie spoke defensively. Further expressing her displeasure, she gave Seifer's arm a punch.

"Ouch, down girl," Seifer held his hands up in defense. "I see why Kinneas is so afraid of you."

Pleased with Seifer's reaction, Selphie giggled.

As Squall began to squirm his way out of the gray hoodie, Seifer cast a wistful glance to the navy blue apron. This would have been his first chance to watch Squall wearing it. Instead of loitering around and ogling the brunet, Seifer did the younger man a favor. Calling for Tilmitt and Trepe to follow, he started to walk towards the couch.

"What'd I miss?" Laguna asked, appearing in the kitchen's doorway.

"We're watching TV while Princess makes Tilmitt waffles," Seifer explained, grinning at the Commander. Squall was giving him a glare that defied his helping hand. "Come on Loire, you're the only person who knows what Tilmitt is talking about."

"Sure, but call me Laguna," the older man requested. No one called him by his last name like that.

"Sorry, no choice. I use everyone's last names," the blond knight replied casually, taking a seat on the couch.

"It's true," Quistis began, "I've known him since he was a little boy, but he still calls me Trepe." She cast a disapproving gaze towards the impersonal knight while taking a seat beside him.

"That's not true," Selphie refuted, sticking her tongue out in thought. "You call Squall, Squall. Even when you were trying to kill each other, I heard you call him by his first name all the time." Sitting on the floor before the coffee table, she willing took the spot.

With a knowing wink, Seifer admonished, "Leonhart's always been a special case."

Selphie cast a furtive glance towards Laguna, who took the last place beside the Head Instructor. Looking questioningly at the knight, she asked silently whether Laguna knew or would be finding out any time soon.

Seifer gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head, to which the young girl sighed longingly. It was obvious what she wanted to be discussing at the moment.

"So," Seifer began, shifting to turn and better face his boyfriend's dad, "You and Lieutenant Garrant served together?" It might have been a stretch in finding common ground, but if Squally-boy was making an effort, then so would he. After all, he was screwing the President's son.

Laguna's eyes became distant for a moment, lost in thoughts of the past. With a fond smile, he gave a nod. "How do you know him?"

Letting out a gruff sigh, the blond scratched his head. "It's a long story."

"If it's got anything to do with a knight's post war travels, then I'd like to hear it," the longhaired man affirmed genuinely.

With a cocky smile, Seifer freely recounted his first meeting with The Harold's owner.

TBC….

A/N Not much action, just the forging of bonds between Laguna and his arrogantly loveable son-in-law, hahaha…. I wonder what the poor guy will say when he finds out.


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter Forty-Eight

Matters of the Heart

Compared to the blistery weather left behind in Balamb, Fisherman's Horizon was a trip to the Bahamas.

Squall had miraculously convinced Seifer to give him the day alone with Laguna. The blond agreed only after a good hour of arguing and then stalked off mumbling something about Sundays sucking.

Balamb Garden wasn't scheduled to leave for FH until the following Tuesday, for winter festival preparations, so the father and son pair had taken the train.

There was an uneasy awkwardness brought from Squall's silence and Laguna's lack of understanding that the Commander hardly carried on conversations with anyone. However, by the time they had made it to the platform station, the atmosphere seemed to have settled into a more comfortable state.

Laguna harped on about anything and everything, while Squall listened impassively, giving subtle nods every so often.

Perhaps the only reason the situation improved was because, unlike usual, Squall wasn't growing weary of listening. It was rare that his attention could be held, especially by words. This might have been something the older man sensed in him.

Though the distance between Garden and FH was not great, the change in weather was.

Surrounded by water, FH barely felt any climate variations as the seasons changed. It was significantly sunny, though white puffy clouds cast cool shade every so often.

The rebuilt train station reflected the lack of activity that was always present in the small town. While an outsider might be inclined to think the town had been abandoned, the quite atmosphere was far from desolate. It was peaceful in Squall's opinion.

There was a soft breeze. The hoodie he was once again wearing wasn't necessary, but it wasn't overly warm to cause suspicion. As it was, he'd walked enough from Garden to the platform that his muscles loosened most of the ache away. Still, he didn't need to be using Seifer's ridiculous excuse that he'd fallen in the shower. He'd sooner crack his head on the wall before landing on his ass. 'Stupid knight,' he cursed, instinctively gripping Leonhart's hilt as though about to spar.

As Laguna surveyed the area, those green eyes obviously looking for some form of life, Squall asked, "Have you ever been here?"

Surprised at the nearly mute brunet's words, the President turned around abruptly to answer. "No, I've passed by on the train before though. When I was a reporter, I was going to Balamb. From what I knew, this place had nothing to write about. At least, nothing my editor would publish." Casting a glance down either end of the tracks, he raised his brows, "I can see why."

"It's a quiet place," Squall explained. The mayor still didn't like him, but so long as he didn't stir any trouble up, his presence was accepted. Besides, he had a feeling that his father might get along well with the hippie who ran FH.

"You don't talk a lot, do you?" Laguna questioned abruptly. If he'd asked such a blunt question a day ago, he would have blanched and apologized. However, after what Squall had said to him that morning, about wanting him to remain for a while, it confirmed that his efforts weren't lost and that the distant Commander wasn't giving him the cold shoulder.

Staring just long enough to make the longhaired man uncomfortable and perhaps regret his words, Squall quirked a brow and jibed, "You're just figuring that out?"

Hazel-green eyes blinked as though dumbstruck. After a moment, Laguna broke out laughing. With a slap on his son's back, he conceded, "You're different than anyone I've met before."

Squall gave a nod of understanding. Most people found it hard to believe that his introverted nature wasn't a personal attack against them. It was a relief to know that he didn't have to put on a friendly front in order to be with his father. That morning had been difficult enough to pull off without it being obviously forced.

* * *

"Whoa! I got another one!" the longhaired man cried, clumsily dancing about the dock with his fishing pole.

Somewhere between amusement and annoyance, Squall lounged on an overhanging steel I-beam structure. FH was always under some form of construction, and some structures remained unfinished for years at a time. The beginning foundation, of what might turn into a warehouse, was convenient for the Commander.

"How many is that?" Squall questioned if only to let the man know he was still awake and paying attention.

"I can't remember," Laguna pouted. Unhooking the wriggling fish, he tossed it back in with a splash.

The sun was making its descent in the western sky, casting a warm pink hew on two lonely men. The water's over the horizon were near blinding, but that didn't keep Squall from staring off at them.

Laguna's long hair was held in a once folded manner, shortening the ponytail. Wiping a slightly sweaty brow the President gave a pained look of deep thought.

Squall was beginning to accept his father's featherbrained tendencies, much the same as he accepted the quirks in each of his friends.

Relaxing back again, Squall settled his head against the folded gray material of Seifer's sweatshirt. With his hands cradling his head this time, his traditional white t-shirt road up to reveal a bit of his stomach. It was uncomfortable, yet comfortable at the same time. The steal beam was not the soft surface he would have longed for, but when he was lying down on his back, it wasn't so bad. And, with the sun shining right on him, it was warm. Nearby, at his foot, was Leonhart. Not holstered, the blade proved easier to carry by hand this time around.

Gray-blue eyes shifted to study the thinking man. What few wrinkles the ex-soldier had obtained with his age were exemplified by the obviously uncommon pensive expression. With khaki pants and a sea green shirt, unbuttoned at the top and the cuffs rolled up to the elbow, Laguna looked like an easy going frequenter of Fisherman's Horizon.

"Thirteen," Squall mumbled softly, shifting ever so slightly to look as though he were actually dozing and not paying attention in the least.

The President's expressive face quickly shifted to silent awe. Such an observant son, who seemed to simply know things rather than learn them, was a secret pride in the older man.

Laguna took a moment to glance up at the young man. The well maintained wooden dock, upon which he stood, was at least five feet below the red bar thingy that Squall was on. The whole mass of metal looked like some unfinished jungle gym. The Commander was pale enough to make him wonder how the boy hadn't been turned red with sunburn. They had been out here since noon.

For about four hours now, he'd been reeling in fish and filling the time in between with stories about himself. His time with Kiros and Ward, how he'd originally met the pair, and his time in Esthar. The one subject he'd been both consciously and unconsciously veering from was anything pertaining to Raine and Ellone.

The quiet young man had sat silently, offering no more than a couple words at a time. About an hour ago, when he had started thinking about which stories he hadn't told yet, he'd begun to wonder if he was being tested. It was proving difficult to accept the impassive and silent nature of his son, even after determining that it was just the boy's personality.

Perhaps he'd rambled on long enough. After all, Kiros would have told him to shut up two hours ago, and the dark skinned man was the most tolerant of his talkative and friendly nature.

"I'm not a very good fisher, but it's been fun. Do you want to head back?" Laguna questioned, turning around to face the brunet. Cast in light, it was easy to see every subtle movement the boy made, even though he was looking up.

Laguna's words caught Squall's attention. Before they went back, he had to mention something about Seifer. There were a barrage of reasons why he hadn't said anything yet, all of which had nothing to do with each other and none of which he was certain was the right one. Procrastinating seemed the foremost. He could sum up his point in a single sentence, yet he'd delayed an entire afternoon and hadn't even broached the subject.

Sitting up, Squall hunched forward before arching back. Resuming his normal posture when he was satisfied that his muscles hadn't actually taken to falling asleep, he swung his legs over the edge. With one hand on Leonhart's hilt, he pushed off and landed on the dock. His boots gave a definitive thud against the sandblasted planks.

Unsure how to word his reply to his father, Squall settled for being indirect, which wasn't something he prone to do. "I'm told that fourteen fish is the record," he spoke in a hinting manner while striding forth to stand next to the man, his blade held casually in his right hand.

Once again, Laguna found himself studying his son's face and searching for hidden meaning behind those words. It was impossible to know just how many levels this kid spoke on. He took the hint well enough, but there were times when he felt like he should read more into a simple greeting of 'hello' so that he might instead hear an entire story.

As the brunet drew even, Laguna turned to stare off at the setting sun as well. Glancing sideways he stared at the boy's profiled face. Briefly, he wondered if he could just stare at Squall for hours on end without the brunet complaining. Then again, as the Commander he was probably used to being gawked at.

"You look so much like Raine," he commented before he could think twice. However, as the words reverberated in his mind, he very nearly slapped himself.

Gray-blue eyes narrowed, but remained fixed on the horizon. The warm glow of the sun felt nice. His skin was no longer pale under the orange color. Thinking on his father's words, he felt little shock over the matter. This wasn't the first time he'd been told this, not even by Laguna. His father had never outright stated the fact, but he saw it in those hazel-green eyes. The first time they met, there was a shocked and disbelieving recognition. And, each time after, he'd seen a similar look. When Laguna saw his face, the man must always be thinking about his lost love.

Whether or not the President had meant to be blunt didn't matter. The serious statement gave Squall a chance to open a new conversation, and show Laguna how he felt about his past. Anything involving his past, also involved a certain blond knight.

Blinking, he turned his bright-eyed gaze toward the slightly taller man beside him. "I've been told as much," he replied, taking a stern step forward. Walking towards the jutting edge of the dock, further outwards over the water, he cast a glance over his shoulder and stated, "But, I wouldn't know."

Tentatively setting the simple rod down, Laguna followed the younger man. 'Wouldn't know?' he questioned. Squall's lack of expression and reaction was curious. Disregarding his previous mindset that this was not a topic to approach, Laguna picked his pace up and trailed closer behind. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Squall didn't answer right away. Stopping at the very edge of the wooden pathway, he squinted at the reflecting waters that now surrounded his line of sight. He waited for the President to join him so that he needn't raise his voice. "I don't recall her face," he answered.

While Laguna battled internally, between the instinctive logic that he didn't have the right to pry into such matters and his desire to know more about this young Commander who was his son, Squall waited patiently.

It had been obvious that Laguna was not comfortable with speaking about Raine or Ellone. Out of all the years that the older man had practically gone through day by day, he'd left out the entire part about Winhill. In truth, Squall wasn't very comfortable with it either. There was a part of him that was afraid of the man's disapproval upon learning that he didn't remember half of it.

A breeze picked up, carrying an aroma of fried food from a nearby restaurant.

At length, the unsure father braved himself to ask at least a few questions he'd thus far felt too personal to ask, and perhaps too much of a fool to expect an answer. "You were four when you went into the orphanage, right?" When he said 'orphanage', the word was forced and held a bad taste.

As the breeze continued, blowing choppy strands of chocolate colored hair about, Squall gave an affirmative nod.

"You've seen her from my memories, right?" Laguna questioned. If Squall had been too young at four, then the Commander should at least have what his own memories showed to go by.

With another nod, Squall decided to be kind and give the man a better explanation. "Faces grow dim quickly. I don't remember anything about your memories or Raine or Ellone, just what the others mention."

Widened green eyes turned to him in alarm. "Amnesia?" he remarked with worry.

With scoff, Squall shook his head. "It would be Alzheimer's, not amnesia. And, no, I don't have either. I don't remember, because my memories are my sacrifice."

Dark brows, similar to Squall's, furrowed in confusion. Laguna continued to stare at his son with worry. After a moment his mind recalled a little known fact about SeeD members. "Guardian Forces?"

With a wry smile, Squall gave another nod, as though congratulating the man for a correct answer.

"But…." Laguna wracked his brain for everything he knew about the mystical Guardians. Aside from SeeD, most people didn't know anything about the creatures. He knew that there was something about memory loss, but that's why there were strict rules about how long to keep them inside the head.

"I don't unjunction Shiva," Squall supplied the increasingly frazzled looking man.

Horrified at the implications his son made, Laguna turned to the boy. "Squall," he spoke sternly, momentarily forgetting his disposition, "You can't do that."

"Perhaps," Squall conceded calmly. A small part of him agreed with the older man. In the long run, there was a good chance a greater sacrifice would be made. His memory might go completely or he might wake up each morning and have to think really hard in order to remember whom he was. But, no one knew what 'in the long run' meant, so he might as well find out while he kept his Guardian junctioned. Shiva was a part of him, no different than an arm or leg. He needed her like air, like Seifer.

Seeing the distress in his father's eyes, Squall soothed over, "It's fine. She doesn't take what I wish to keep." As soon as he said it, he realized how harsh his words were, and just what it meant. But, it was the truth, and not something he'd lie about. If he wanted to remember his mother, and his sister, then he'd ask for those memories back and exchange something meaningless.

Laguna was stricken by his son's admittance. "You don't want to remember?"

Thinking on it for a moment, Squall sighed. "It's not necessarily want," he began, "I don't need to remember." Something occurred to him then, something he hadn't really noticed before. Frowning in disapproval, Squall thought back and tried to remember something.

With growing confusion, Laguna watched the Commander frown in distaste. "What is it?" he asked automatically.

"Shiva," Squall stated distantly, as though the reply was an unconscious motion of his mouth.

Eyes closed, Squall searched carefully, picking through details to make certain he remembered correctly. His heart was beating faster at the looming understanding behind it all. Forgetting about where he was and whom he was with, he muttered, "Only what I need."

Raking a frustrated hand through his messy hair, Squall cursed. He was such an idiot, more so than Seifer, which was quite the accomplishment.

The concerned voice of Laguna filtered through, "Squall?" The longhaired man placed a firm hand on a slim shoulder.

Snapping back to reality, Squall turned widened eyes to his father. Blinking, he turned his gaze away and raised a pensive hand to his mouth. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"What is it?" As Laguna spoke, the hand on the younger man's shoulder gave a small squeeze of assurance.

"An epiphany," the brunet mumbled again, lowering his hand. With a heavy sigh, Squall berated himself and resolved that he just wasn't cut out for any form of self-analysis. Under any other circumstances, he would have shrug the older man's hand off and muttered the one worded answer of 'nothing'. But, this might just be the perfect opportunity to talk about Seifer.

Laguna tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Care to share?" His words almost betrayed the sarcasm he felt underneath. Squall had already been more open and forthright in this single day than in all the months he'd known and pushed himself into the Commander's life. There was little chance of getting the brunet to divulge anything more personal.

Soft gray-blue eyes returned their scan of the water meeting the sky. With a small smile, which came from understanding a bit more about the reasons behind the sudden change in his life, Squall answered, "I've never forgotten a single memory… about Seifer."

It was true. Even when he'd completely forgotten about Quistis and everyone else, he remembered who Seifer was and what they had been through together. Even when Seifer had left and he no longer had the memory-prompting source of seeing the blond in person, he recalled every spar and every fight. It had never seemed odd that he was able remember Seifer. After all, they had known each other since they were little boys. And after remembering his friends, it didn't seem weird that he held memories of the blond. It was odd, however, that there wasn't a single time when those memories were hazy.

Shiva had known not to take something so important.

"Your bodyguard?" Laguna questioned incredulously. Was Squall saying that he was willing to forget about Raine, but never once forgot about Ultimecia's knight? Part of the President was outraged over this.

Squall bit his lip, wondering if this was the moment to say it. Was it premature? Or did it not matter? Tightly gripping Leonhart, he anchored himself with the reassuring feel of the blade in his hand. "Not my bodyguard," Squall began, feeling his heart beat a bit faster against his will. His fingers were beginning to go numb as his knuckles turned white. "My lover," he corrected.

The silence was unbroken.

Squall's eyes remained fixed over the waters. The sun kissed the horizon at that moment, splaying forth a more narrowed line of colors over the shifting waves.

"Y-your lover?" the older man stuttered in response.

Clenching his teeth, Squall felt apprehension wash over him. It was the most peculiar feeling to have. Why did it matter what Laguna thought? The President of Esthar was his father in title only. He'd gone his entire life without knowing the man, so why did his body betray him with such nervous feelings?

Not shifting to look at Laguna, Squall said, "Since his return."

"He was a sorceress' knight," Laguna pointed out, regaining the ability to think and speak properly.

"And now he's not," Squall countered weakly as though the argument was moot to begin with.

"Squall!" Laguna abruptly erupted. His son had willingly forgot about the one woman he loved with all his heart whilst relishing in the fact that memories of some sorceress' knight were undisturbed.

Squall didn't say anything, he just waited for Laguna to express his feelings more clearly. Although, the brunet had a decent hunch which way the man was leaning.

Forcefully, the usually laidback man turned the smaller brunet to face him. "What about Raine? Were her memories not precious to you?" He gave an instilling shake to the narrow shoulders.

Frowning in disapproval, Squall harshly knocked the longhaired man's hold off. The muffled clanking of his blade sounded within its sheath as he did so. The warning was clear. They might have grown a bit closer, but there were still boundaries, which were not to be crossed.

There was a flaring of pain at the way his father had expressed a lowly view of Seifer. Had the man not been talking with the ex-knight that very day? Had the two of them not been laughing their asses off together over some inside joke about that barman in Dollet? He wanted to lash out and reprimand Laguna for speaking without understanding, but he remained silent.

Reining in his rampant emotions, Squall took a steady breath. In the rare times when he felt irrationality take hold, he found it best to settle down and pretend to view the situation from someone else's view.

Immediately, Squall realized his father's misconception. "I was too young to remember Raine when I was given to Matron's care." When the older man before him didn't seem convinced, he explained, "I don't remember, but I'm told that the only person I talked about was Ellone. Raine… my mother… may have died in birth for all I know."

Narrowed hazel-green eyes softened. "I'm sorry," Laguna began to apologize, coming down from an over reactive moment of anger.

"I've known Seifer since I was four years old," Squall spoke over any more words of regret from the President. His tone was cold, as though teaching a misbehaving student a lesson in manners. "My time spent there isn't all blank. As I said, I remember everything with Seifer, and Shiva has given back most memories of the others."

Hesitantly, Laguna reached a hand out again, but stopped and retracted from the contact. "Squall," he whispered with regret. He felt terrible. He'd just single handedly ruined what little foundation they'd built together. It was times like these that he cursed his foolish and over emotional nature.

Ignoring the man's regret, Squall impressed a point. He couldn't stand to have doubt in this matter, to have the older man think any less of his relationship with Seifer than it deserved. "Everyone left the orphanage. They all found families, and never looked back. But, I was left behind, and so was Seifer. We've been together our whole lives."

When Laguna didn't say anything, Squall broke down and turned to the man expectantly. However, the older man simply looked down with averted eyes, obviously not willing to comment.

"I'm surprised you have nothing to say," the Commander admitted. It was an ironic turn of events, to become the one speaking in lengths while the longhaired chatterbox acted depressingly subdued and remained silent.

Again, with regret fill eyes, Laguna snapped his head up and stared into solemn gray-blue eyes. He almost felt like crying over the botched up mess he'd created. He'd never become close to this boy, not after this. "It's not my place, I'm sorry," he spoke rigidly.

Displeased, Squall frowned. How was it not Laguna's place? He'd told the man with the intention of informing his father about the drastic change in his life. "That's why I wanted to talk with you," Squall admitted. "The others know about me and Seifer, but no one else." With a mirthless scoff, he continued, "You can imagine the media frenzy this will create. But, I wanted you to know, because we're serious about being together, and because you're my father."

Laguna's refusal to discuss the matter was all the answer Squall needed. Having spoken his peace, the brunet felt the disastrous turn of the conversation was not something he needed to stand around and gawk at like some train wreck. Turning around, he casually walked away.

Before the Commander could get more than five paces away, Laguna's voice stopped him.

"Parental acceptance?" the President suddenly cried out in desperate questioning. Whirling around, he stared after his son, hating the feeling he had at seeing the boy's backside.

"Yeah, something like that," Squall replied evenly. Not looking back, he continued to walk away.

"Wait!" Laguna called out again, the desperation felt paramount. Atop his own self loathing and misery over crushing his unstable relationship with his son, now he had this painful hope that Squall really did care and that he hadn't ruined it all.

Halting yet again, Squall waited with bated breath for what the older man had to say. 'What could possibly make this any worse?' he wondered.

Like any foolishly asked question of what could make something worse, the jinx was set and the situation took another nosedive, passing the ground in which it had crashed on and digging to the molten core.

"I love you!" the desperate father cried for the entire world to hear, even if that world only consisted of the fish in the surrounding water. The slightly awkward declaration from a father to a son did not seem out of place, but only on the account that neither person within hearing range knew the proper wording used in such exchanges between family.

Eyes clenched shut, Squall let a silent stream of curses loose within his mind.

Laguna figured that he had nothing to lose by directly asking Squall for an answer. "Do you care about me at all?"

Squall felt like pinching the bridge of his nose and stalking away from the situation entirely. However, the image of a broken hearted Laguna would surely haunt him for the rest of his life. How had this come about? He should have let Seifer handle this. The blond would have just pinched his ass and started making out with him to get the message of their relationship across.

It would be pretentious and cruel to lie to the warm hearted man by saying that he secretly returned the same feelings. It was not something he could bring himself to do, not even when he turned around and was affronted by the sorrowful and desperate look in those mixed green eyes.

The Commander wondered whether his affection was worth so much distress. Surely Ellone loved the man, and he wasn't even the girl's real father. So, why was _he_ so important? Why was Laguna so desperate for him to feel the same?

Tearing his eyes away from Laguna's he stared thoughtfully at the planks beneath his feet. It would be hypocritical to disapprove of Laguna's attachment to himself when he'd been prostrating and bending over backwards to please the man. It wasn't like him to do anything out of pity, which meant that he cared for his father. But, the extent of that caring was still unknown to him.

Gripping Leonhart fiercely again, Squall took a few steps back, towards his father. The older man watched his every move as though his answer would be conveyed in them. When he was a few feet away, he spoke softly with as much sincerity as he could manage at the moment, "I don't know why, but I do."

Mentally, Squall was begging to let it be enough, for Laguna to be appeased with this knowledge. But, somehow, he knew it wasn't.

"Do you love me?" the longhaired man pressed.

Seifer had proven to the brunet that there was no hiding the truth. "I don't know," Squall replied firmly.

Before Squall could even think about dodging, the ex-Galbadian soldier proved his background and moved in a swift blur of a light colored shirt and fluttering dark hair.

The receding pain Squall had felt since that morning did not mean he should go about aggravating his lower back again. He could have handled Selphie at this point, but Laguna was a bigger man than he was, and the weight was not something he could take.

As the older man pounced forward and gripped the smaller man in a fierce embrace, the buckled resistance sent the two sprawling over. Squall half expected to feel flaring pain as he connected with the hard wood and took on the brunt of the fall. However, when no such connection was made, his right arm instinctively tossed Leonhart out.

Just as the clanking sound of his gunblade falling onto the dock reached his ears, his back made contact with the water.

The two of them toppled over the edge and into the shifting waves below.


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter Forty-Nine

A Picture Lasts Longer

Breaking the surface of the water, Squall growled out a note of annoyance. Moments later the splashing of Laguna surfacing sounded from nearby. Treading water, Squall turned to find the longhaired man thrashing about while trying to stay afloat.

The sight was rather amusing. It was as though the President was trying to do too many different actions at once. "I take it swimming isn't your strong suit," Squall stated a bit coldly.

"Not many things are," the President replied shyly, blushing furiously at what his overzealous actions had resulted in.

This whole father son bonding was not working out at all. Things had gone from bad to worse, and after tackling his son off the dock and into the water, Laguna didn't see how it could possibly get better.

Struggling to not sink back under, the odd feeling of boots weighing his feet down, Laguna refused to meet his son's eyes until he could think of something appropriate to say. The steadying hand on his upper arm came as a surprise. Shock evident in his expression, his eyes looked up to meet those steely gray ones. It sent a shiver through him, the icy nature of his son's eyes, but that might have been the water.

As contradictions went, Laguna saw a cold aloofness in Squall's eyes, but as the brunet helped him move closer to the dock there was an obvious note of warmth to the action.

"Sorry," the longhaired man apologized, regarding the back of the Commander's head.

"Don't worry about it," Squall said. Accidents happened, and considering who he was dealing with, it was a given that something would go wrong every hour or so. Besides, if he hadn't dodged in the first place then he deserved to be knocked down. By all rights, he shouldn't have let his consumed mind get in the way of his instincts.

Confused by the Commander's calm reaction, Laguna pressed the matter, "Are you angry?" There were times when people would get so angry that they moved beyond just shouting.

"No," Squall mumbled, pulling Laguna closer as they neared a round post that supported the dock.

Treading about four feet below the wooden platform, neither man would be able to get back up without a little help.

"I'll give you a leg up," Squall stated, explaining his reason for pulling the older man closer.

"Eh?" Laguna intoned in question.

With a sigh, Squall elaborated, "Put your foot in my hands and I'll help you reach the dock."

"But, I'd push you under the water," the President spoke with obvious reluctance to inconvenience the boy in any way ever again.

"It's fine," the brunet assured. Pushing the older man to go along with his instructions, Squall let go of Laguna's arm and interlocked his fingers. Apparently his father's hesitation was greater than he thought, for instead of grabbing onto him for support, the green swimmer floundered under.

Groaning, Squall reached out again and pulled Laguna up by the cuff of a sopping green shirt. "Hold onto me," he ordered.

"I'll give _you_ the leg up," the man reasoned.

"Yeah, and then I'll have to fish your dead body out," Squall stated with mirth. This guy could be amusing in a naïve sort of way, but far too kind hearted for Squall's tolerance.

Hesitantly, Laguna braced himself with hands on the young man's shoulders. It almost seemed like Squall was secretly standing on some hidden platform below, the brunet didn't seem to have any difficulty at all.

Entwining his fingers again, Squall straightened his arms down and hunched over to let Laguna place a foot in the makeshift catapult.

"Are you sure you'll be fine?" Laguna asked. "Why don't we just swim around?"

Grumbling at the man's incessant worry, Squall replied, "Cause it'll take too long, and I'm cold."

Sopping wet, Squall stood with the heavy weight of his clothes. His boots were soaked and his jeans were barely able to stay up, held in place by a single belt. The white shirt clung to him like an opaque second skin, making the garment completely pointless. The only time his hair wasn't mussed up or falling in jagged cuts was when it was dripping wet and matted down.

The first thing the slightly chilled brunet did was retrieve Lionheart. Holding the sheathed gunblade, his fingers almost caressed the dark casing in apology for tossing it away so carelessly.

Laguna was in a similar state of dishevelment. The President's long hair had loosened from its elastic band and fell like a dark curtain down the man's back. His shirt hung loosely, a darker green than before, while his pants sloshed with every step.

"Guess we're spending the night," the older man said, scratching the back of his head and giving a goofy smile.

Hesitantly, Squall agreed with a nod. It hadn't been his plan to stay over night in FH, but going back to Balamb in wet clothes meant freezing to death. Besides, it was kind of late for traveling anyway.

It was bothersome that they'd have to go back into town and find a hotel while walking around in wet clothes.

"Squall," Laguna whispered in an uncommonly serious tone.

Stopping mid step, Squall turned around. The sun was a half circle of glowing orange on the horizon. The President's easy to read face was cast in shadow, making it difficult to tell just what was on his father's mind. Taking a guess, Squall assured, "It's fine, Selphie is always doing stuff like that." It was probably more troublesome that the longhaired man didn't let it go than the action itself.

Disregarding the brunet's words, Laguna focused on the single issue that occupied his mind, and had been weighing heavily with him for some time. "You care about me?"

Squall had to stop himself from growling out a note of annoyance. Why didn't people listen the first time? "I don't like to repeat myself," he said.

"Please," Laguna requested solemnly.

Frowning, Squall cringed at the request. Just when he thought he could be himself around the man, the situation changed. From having to smile and talk, to repeating himself and saying things he didn't want to say in the first place. Was this worth it? What did he get out of any relationship forged with his father? Who was he doing this for?

Although Squall was unable to find any answers, he was able to admit defeat. Whether or not he wanted to, he did carry some semblance of affection for this man who'd sired him.

"You're as big an idiot at Seifer," the Commander cursed. The two morons, Seifer and Laguna, had more than mutual acquaintances in common, they'd undoubtedly managed to make Squall care about them. "I care about you," he mumbled at length.

Laguna's body instinctively jerked forward, but he restrained himself. It must have been some automated reaction to hearing that his son cared. Still, he wanted to hug the boy, his son. "Can I hug you?"

Sighing, Squall wondered if all his troubles with Laguna could be solved by killing the man. As the usually goofy President shifted impatiently, he glimpsed earnest green eyes. It was ten times more moving a sight than Selphie's pouting imitation of a puppy dog. Frustrated, Squall gave a nearly imperceptible nod of ascent.

This time, Laguna didn't tackle the smaller man, but stepped closer and carefully wrapped his arms around the Commander's shoulders and back. Drawing the wet form closer, he squeezed tightly, unable to hold back any longer. He'd been longing to do this since their first meeting. His son, all grown up and looking so much like Raine. It was painful, but not nearly as bad as not being able to simply hug the boy.

Remaining limp in the hold, Squall simply stood with his hands at his side. Enveloped in the longhaired man's arms, he couldn't help but note that it was significantly warmer. It was somehow very similar and yet completely different from Seifer's embrace.

When Laguna didn't seem inclined to letting go anytime soon, Squall found himself fighting a battle between shoving the man off and responding to the action in turn. Unable to decide what to do, he did nothing, and simply remained impartial.

As time seemed to drag on, Squall's eyes searched for something to settle on aside from the glimpse of darkening sky beyond his father's shoulder. Even so close to another person, it was becoming chilly.

Squall gave a small shiver as a breeze swept in from the sea. Shutting his eyes from the surrounding world, he lowered his head against Laguna's shoulder. The result of his small action was to have his body squeezed tighter, making it uncomfortable. But, he didn't protest. With any luck, once it was over, the kindhearted man would never expect such complacency from him ever again.

It was distressing when the Commander suddenly felt one of the ex-soldier's arms shift and stroke his hair. To add to the problem, the brunet suspected the small tremors coming from his father were sobs.

The idea that Laguna was now crying was the last straw. Squirming slightly, he was about to shout at the man or just hit him with his blade's hilt, but he was stopped short.

Going rigid, Squall squint his eyes closed in annoyance. Not too far off, probably at the unfinished warehouse, the unmistakable sound of a camera could be heard. Balling one hand in a fist and gripping Lionheart harshly in the other, Squall hissed out, "Laguna"

"No! Don't move!" a familiar voice cried out in a pleading manner.

As footsteps sounded, coming closer, Squall forced himself away from Laguna and drew his gunblade. Defensively, he faced the intruder with the neon glow of his blade casting an opposing light to the warm colored rays of the setting sun.

Narrowed gray eyes widened once recognition was made. Standing down, Squall watched as an angry Selphie stomped her way across the dock.

"I said not to move!" the young woman yelled shaking a fist in the air.

Completely confused, Squall looked from the angry girl approaching to unknown cameraman stationed on the steal beam he'd been lounging on earlier.

"What is this?" the Commander asked sternly, not appreciating the unexplained situation or the angry attitude he was receiving for no apparent reason.

"Well," the young woman huffed, as she drew nearer, "It's nothing now." Hands on her hips, shifting the yellow corduroy a bit, she glared up at the taller brunet.

Dumbfounded, Squall was at a loss. Selphie's glare could rival his own at times, but he was still far from intimidated. Glaring back, he made to sheath his blade.

Selphie's green eyes widened suddenly. Raking her eyes up and down the sopping brunet, she almost giggled at how he resembled a wet cat. "Wait!" she shouted over her shoulder. Nodding in approval she declared, "Take these pictures too. You can see right through his shirt." Stepping aside, she promptly slouched over and on bent knees and waited.

Upon her own request, she'd followed the father and son pair to Fisherman's Horizon. Showing up several hours later, she'd enlisted the aide of the first person she found in town, and set up camp with her equipment. She'd arrived to watch the pair talking at the far end of the peer like dock. And from there, her sight seeing adventure began. But, once she signaled for the shutter lens camera to be used, the Commander heard the noise and ruined it.

Still glaring, Squall remained motionless in his increased confusion. Short of shouting out curses, he did his best to remain calm and have patience that all would reveal itself in due time.

The soft glow of Lionheart disappeared when Squall finished putting his unneeded weapon away. Frowning, he looked over at a smiling copper haired girl. Her hair was more red than copper at the moment, but he really didn't care about that.

Looking to Laguna he found that he wasn't alone in his confusion. As the returned sound and sporadic flashes of a camera went off, Squall frowned deeply. Whatever the bi-polar ball of energy was up to, he most certainly didn't want to have anything to do with it.

So, Squall began to walk away. He'd grab his hoodie and destroy whatever pictures had been taken at the same time.

"Touch a single camera or the guy takin' the pictures and I'll never forgive you!" Selphie sang out loudly to the retreating Commander's back.

Balling his fist, Squall kept walking without hitching his stride. A part of him felt like being petty in whatever game the young woman was playing, but he refrained. He could shout back that it would be another two weeks before Balamb stationed in FH, but he didn't. He'd practiced calm behavior all his life. Brashness was something he was an expert at controlling.

It was a true test of his self-control, however, when he neared the shadowed cameraman and the guy kept taking his picture. Silently, he vowed never to make Selphie waffles ever again.

Grabbing the garment, he very nearly slid Lionheart along the beam's surface to knock the man down.

Hurried footsteps approached. Turning around, Squall watched as a confused longhaired President sprinted towards him.

"Want me to break it?" Laguna asked, drawing closer.

"Laguna can't interfere either!" Selphie shouted, standing up to quickly follow. Double-teaming wasn't fair. "The same rules apply to the dad as to the son!" she reasoned with fists waving madly above her head.

The clicking of pictures stopped as the dark haired cameraman, who looked like a local of FH, froze with fear of assault.

"Selphie," Laguna began to speak, "What are you doing here? And why are you taking pictures?"

Squall's sharp eyes looked from the man crouched on high to the still approaching copper haired woman. The pieces were beginning to fall into place, but the picture they formed was ludicrous.

"Because, bonding moments are the best," she affirmed happily. Her face contorted to a frown after a moment, "But you ruined it!" she pointed an accusing finger to the Commander. "It was so sweet, and then you had to go and end it."

Gritting his teeth, Squall was forced to accept the completed image as the last piece fit in place perfectly. Selphie had shown up to take pictures of him and Laguna together. No doubt, the young woman couldn't have been there very long, but she might have taken several rolls worth of pictures without his even knowing it. There was a reason she was SeeD. But, there was also a reason he was Commander.

Punishment was definitely in order. With a small smirk, Squall mentally stomped out all protests for what he was about to do. Revenge would be worth it. Besides, Laguna was just featherbrained enough for it to work, whilst not giving the friendly man any ideas.

Subtly choosing not to cover his exposed body with the sweatshirt, the brunet began to rub his upper arms. "Laguna," he stated softly, "Can we go now? I'm cold."

Frowning, the older man turned from the young woman, who'd appeared out of nowhere, and looked to his son with concern. "Of course," the President agreed quickly.

"Huh?" Selphie gaped at the Commander's odd demeanor. They were leaving?

Squall forced the all traces of his smirk away. As pathetically pleading as he could, he gazed at the older man and stepped closer. Common sense would tell any person that the dry shirt in his hand was what he should be putting on, but he doubted his father was thinking clearly at the moment. Emotions ran high in the kindhearted President, and after the swirling of events just now, the poor guy probably didn't know what hit him. Rubbing his arms again, he gave a voluntary shiver. The fact that he was cold from being wet would only serve to spur sympathy from the man who'd tackled him.

"Do you have a place in mind?" Laguna questioned, hating how the smaller man shivered on account of being wet. Unsure what to make of the less defensive Commander, he did what he would have done for Ellone. Stepping closer, he slung his arm around the suddenly frail looking young man.

"Selphie," Squall said, making a show of leaning closer into Laguna's body, "Go back and tell Seifer I'll be away for the night."

On the verge of crying over losing such a prime opportunity of recording Squall showing kinship, Selphie was about to protest. However, a stern glare from the Commander told her that it wasn't a request. "Meanie!" she shouted, fleeing passed the pair and running along the dock. A frazzled young man fumbled while lowering down to the dock and scrambling to follow after, the hastily packed camera bag swinging in toe.

Laguna watched the retreating forms and it suddenly clicked into place. An all too complacent Commander willingly remaining close and the upset young woman. "Is she always like that?" he questioned, still confused over Selphie's fixation on taking pictures of the two of them together.

Surprised, Squall turned his head to regard Laguna.

"You don't have to act anymore," the longhaired man said, hiding the hurt he felt at being used so easily. Kiros was always warning him about being too nice for his own good.

"I guess the discovery that I can be physically intimate must've been a shock for her," Squall stated. "I think she wants pictures because she doesn't think it'll last." Selphie might have been brash and out of line at times, but she always had her twisted reasons for it all.

Still not understanding entirely, the older man shrugged. He left his arm draped around the brunet out of foolish hope.

With satisfaction, Squall noted that he'd taken his revenge already. However, he wasn't oblivious to the hurt expression on Laguna's face. "I'm hungry too," he stated suggestively.

Surprised at Squall's words, Laguna didn't quite pick up on the suggestion at first. However, when he realized that they'd be spending the rest of the day together, he was overjoyed. The Commander might not have been the most fun person to hang out with, but the young man was definitely number one on his list at all times. With the way things were going, he might manage to convince the brunet to start calling him 'Dad'.

With an unconscious squeeze to the Commander's shoulder, Laguna reasoned in a fatherly manner, "Dry clothes come first."

Upon seeing the uneasy expression melt into a warm smile, Squall ignored what his common sense had told him already. He decided that playing the roll of a child in need of a guiding hand might not kill him, and it had the added benefit of soothing any qualms his father might have at the moment.

Straightening up a bit, Squall remained beside ex-soldier and didn't shrug the arm off. At least it would make up for using the man.

TBC….

A/N It was kind of an unnecessary chapter, but I wanted to tie up any loose ends. I don't really have an ending in mind since I have a lot more I'd like to write about. But, I think it would be better left to a sequel. I'm debating how to best finish this story. If I'm going to carry things on in a sequel, then there's a good chance that the next chapter will be the final chapter. I think that would be best, since I don't want the plot to become dry and just have things drag on forever. I think a sequel would make the next stream of events in this story a lot more refreshing and interesting.


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter Fifty

Our Lives Have Just Begun

"I can really ask questions?" Laguna questioned, leaning forward excitedly with his elbows propped on the square metal table.

"Within reason," Squall replied. The brunet didn't want a repeat of his conversation with Irvine. Too many inappropriate questions all at once, and the gunman had even made an outrageous offer.

In the dimly lit diner, Laguna and Squall sat across from each other while waiting on their food. It would take ten minutes or so, considering the cook wasn't able to read minds like a certain barman they knew. After finding a place to stay for the night, they'd laundered their clothes while discussing the incident with Selphie and the cameraman. Once they weren't salty and wet, they'd gone out again and found a decent diner.

Laguna was excited. His son had come to him for approval on a relationship, and now they got to spend the night together. How great was that? This was the type of thing normal dads did.

"So, you're dating Seifer Almasy?" the longhaired man began stating the obvious and hoping he didn't have a limited number he could ask.

Brows furrowed Squall gave his father an odd look, but he nodded in answer.

"What about Rinoa?" Caraway's daughter was a sweet girl. He remembered her well. She was very pretty, a lot like Julia. Maybe a little too much like Julia, for that matter. The President always had this freaky sense of being in some dream when he saw Squall and Rinoa together. It was like the two women he'd fallen in love with had suddenly decided to date each other.

"She left," Squall stated vaguely.

With an exaggerated nod of understanding, Laguna considered that particular matter resolved without any details. "You mentioned that it started when he returned. Why now? And, how serious are you after only a week?"

Crossing his arms, Squall sat back into the cushioned bench of their booth. After a moment of thought, the brunet replied sincerely, "I don't know. It hasn't made any sense. But, I have my theories."

This time, the vague answer was not enough for the older man. "Like what?" he pressed.

"It's like that saying, 'you never know what you have, until you lose it.'" It was obvious that Squall was speaking about the war.

"That's just like something straight out of a romance novel, except the part where you're both guys," Laguna commented.

Squall scowled at the reference. His relationship with Seifer was anything but the clichéd dramas Rinoa read all the time. "Seifer's no knight in shining armor, and I wouldn't slay a dragon to rescue his sorry ass," the brunet retorted.

Laguna began laughing, his hand slapping the tabletop. As much as he wanted to tell his son how adorable he was being, he knew that would end their conversation immediately. The scowl looked like a pout, making it seem like the Commander was shy about topic. "No, I can't say you're the damsel in distress, and I don't think he fits that part either."

Scoffing, Squall replied, "I think he'd rather become a knight again than wear a dress."

The older man stopped laughing abruptly. Leaning across the table he whispered, "You don't wear dresses, do you?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Squall stated coldly, "No"

With a sigh, Laguna shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it is odd that you're with another man."

"Is it so odd?" Squall questioned seriously, wondering if the public would focus on that aspect solely. Laguna was the first person to find out that wasn't a close member of their tightly knit group. Though, the older man obviously had a bias, it was a step closer to seeing how the general public might react.

Hazel-green eyes sharpened at the heavy tone in the young man's voice. "I suppose not," Laguna mumbled. "Considering the life you've had, growing up in a Garden, things are bound to be different."

The evenly spoken words caught Squall's attention. _This_ was the man who ran Esthar, the more serious and capable side of the President. It was the one side of Laguna that Squall both disliked and liked the most. As far as political matters went, he couldn't stand his father. Bargaining like an expert, Laguna was a very persuasive politician, thus establishing the Esthar-Balamb Treaty. However, Squall also found that if it wasn't discussing economic and political relations, he quite enjoyed the wiser side of the man.

Intrigued, Squall humored the idea that his father might actually be able to give him a few helpful words. "How so?" he questioned. How was he different from a normal person? Everyone he knew was normal, and in comparison, they weren't so different from him.

With a sigh, Laguna looked regretfully at his son. All grown up, the boy hadn't needed him for anything. "You were raised as a mercenary." When he spoke these words he couldn't hide the sadness he felt over such a fact. "SeeD are not normal people. And, someone who has known nothing beyond the life of a fighter is going to be very different than a civilian. You seek power and strength, that is your goal each time you train."

Bowed lips, that had remained relaxed while the longhaired man spoke, frowned as the words set in deeper. It almost sounded like Laguna didn't like him being a SeeD. What was wrong with wanting to become stronger? Power came with responsibility, and he knew that. However, if he didn't become stronger, then he wouldn't be able to protect the people around him. "You make it sound like a bad thing. Ultimecia's dead because of SeeD and what we stand for."

With a breathy sigh, Laguna apologized, "Sorry, that's not what I was trying to get at." His tone implied that while Squall had considered the wrong aspect to his words, what the brunet perceived was still true. He didn't like the idea of his son growing up surrounded by weapons and learning how to fight and kill. "It'd be pretty hypocritical if I said I didn't like that you're a soldier."

Gray-blue eyes narrowed as Squall's frown deepened. Since when did Laguna disapprove of his lifestyle? "Yeah, it would," he remarked defensively.

Laguna knew well enough which subjects were out of bounds. Right now, the only thing on the table for discussion was the ex-knight. "What I meant was that unlike an ordinary person, your attraction to something might come from its power."

"You mean Seifer?" Squall asked incredulously, momentarily sidetracked by the abrupt change in topic.

The older man nodded, sending tendrils of hair forward that had been trying to escape. "Is he strong?" the President prompted.

Squall thought about his father's words. Nodding, the brunet added on to his answer, "We trained together. He was the only other gunbladist."

"So, he was your equal?"

"Still is," Squall corrected.

With an unpracticed frown that didn't look right on the goofy man's face, Laguna took a moment to reflect on everything he'd been told. "I don't like it," he announced after a bit.

From Laguna's previous outburst over the matter of Seifer taking precedence in the brunet's memories, Squall hadn't completely ruled out the possibility of his father's disapproval. "Why?" he asked, wanting to at least know that much.

"He's a sorceress' knight. To me, that's a very big problem. You know about Esthar. A sorceress isn't half as powerful without the help of her knight. Adel would have fallen years earlier if Haden hadn't been by her side. And Ultimecia wouldn't have caused nearly as much destruction and death without Seifer."

"Adel had a knight?" the Commander questioned.

"He died early on, before I helped out," Laguna dismissed the fact, "Seifer's a knight. Something like that can't be forgiven."

Angrily, Squall pointed out, "You didn't seem too upset with him this morning."

If the sharp eyed Commander hadn't specifically stated that it was okay to be honest in his opinions and feelings on this matter, then Laguna wouldn't have dared express his view. However, this was what the boy had wanted from him, so in fairness he wouldn't lie. "I don't think he's a bad person, and I don't harbor any ill will toward him. However, I don't want him dating my son."

In anger, Squall forgot that he'd told Laguna in order to include the man and obtain support. Instead, all he registered was that the older man was viewing his relationship with Seifer negatively. "And whose son am I supposed to be?" he bit out coldly. "Seifer played a bigger part in raising me than you did, and you still look down on him?"

Laguna nearly flinched under the icy glare he received. Clenching his jaw, the President backed down while nursing reopened wounds of guilt over never being there for the Commander. "He raised you?" the older man questioned at length, curiosity over the brunet's words stirring within.

Squall broke his glare, blinking and sitting back further in his seat. He hadn't really thought about what he'd said. The stupid knight always made him say things without thinking, even if his blond ass wasn't there. "In a manner of speaking," the Commander smoothed over. "I was weak when I came to Garden, and the upper classmen didn't like me. Seifer's confessed to watching out for me. He's the one who kept me at my training and studying, if only to be better than him."

"Give me one good reason why he's the best person for you, when you every person in the world wanting to know you?" Laguna asked. "If being your childhood buddy was enough, then you'd be dating Zell or Irvine."

Fierce gray eyes pinned the older man to the seat across the table. Squall hated how defensive he felt. But, in a way it might have been a good thing to finally have someone opposed. "I can give you more than one," the brunet growled out. "First of all, I'm not into guys, Seifer is in a separate category all together. It's not about gender. And, it's not about childhood friends either." Squall's eyes narrowed, "I forgot about everyone else. They might as well not have ever existed to me. They left my life, Seifer didn't." Leaning forward slightly, he emphasized his next words, "I don't know about having a family, but I do know about having at least one person in my life who I've always known would be there, even if he went off to become my enemy in the war. I've never doubted him, not even when he was a knight, which he _isn't now_."

The President's mixed green eyes widened at the last comment.

"He's the best person for me, because he understands me and because I love him," Squall stated heavily, his words almost sounding like a warning, daring the older man to refute it.

* * *

Late night in Balamb Garden, three friends sat around a small round card table. 

Raijin slouched in his chair, nearly falling off it in order to rest his head back. The bulky man was continually dozing off until Fujin or Seifer knocked him awake to show his cards.

When the silver haired woman yawned, she finished it with a growling note of annoyance. Throwing her hand that only had a pair of threes into the center of the table, she flopped down on crossed forearms. "TIRED," she announced, her voice muffled.

"You guys are no fun," Seifer said, giving a jolting kick to the black haired man who'd fallen asleep again.

Jerking awake, Raijin sent an angry glare towards their blond leader. "We have to get up early, ya know. Why are we doing this now?"

"Cause I can't sleep, that's why," Seifer answered. Scratching his chin, he smoothed over the growing stubble. He hadn't shaved just for the purpose of annoying Squall. "Let's go to the Training Center," the ex-knight suggested with no hint of tiring any time soon.

"Here's an idea," Fujin began sarcastically, "How about we go to sleep and you go cuddle with Leonhart's clothes or something."

"Yeah, like, we get that your whipped and can't go a night without the Commander, but why do we have to suffer for it?" the large fighter yawned out.

Clenching his teeth, Seifer gave a swift kick to Raijin's shin, causing the man to howl in pain. "I'm not whipped," he hissed out defensively.

"Then go to sleep like normal people," the silver haired woman countered. Raising her head up she goaded the blond with a daring looking.

"Tch," the blond knight sounded in defeat, "Fine" Standing up, Seifer stalked from his friends' apartment.

As the door slid shut behind the sulking knight, the remaining two members of the trio both looked at each other in exasperation.

"I never thought I'd see the day when our leader became a lapdog," Raijin whined.

"AFFIRMATIVE," Fujin agreed.

"Still, it's, like, good to see him happy. But I have a feeling this is going to be, like, a really long year, ya know?"

The silver haired woman responded with a resounding thud as her forehead made contact with the table. "Leonhart," she grumbled out.

* * *

Squall lay on his back, arms propped behind his head. The blanket beneath him was untouched, since he knew very well he wouldn't be getting any sleep that night. With a glance to the snoring man on the bed nearby, he knew that was pointless to even try and rest his eyes. 

Shifting to his side, the brunet curled up and stared off vacantly, his pensive gaze not really seeing the cream colored wall that faced him. Shutting his eyes from the darkened room around him, he sought out Shiva. If nothing else could be accomplished that day, he'd at least yell at his Guardian for her previous actions.

Before he could even manage the short bit of concentration it took, his mind lost focus as his thoughts again wandered to the blond knight he was so fixated with. He missed that spicy scented aftershave, which no longer lingered in faint traces on the hoodie he wore.

"Stupid knight," he whispered. His voice broke the stillness, as the President's breathing had quieted.

Rolling to the other side of the bed, the Commander unfurled his lithe form and stood up. Crossing the room with silent steps, he patted his way to the door before making ready to leave.

The brunet hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to leave a note of some sort incase he didn't return by the time the ex-soldier woke up. With a small shake of choppy hair, the Commander quietly shut the door behind himself and walked softly with thudded clicks down the hallway.

Within the double room, which now contained a single person, darkened hazel-green eyes gleamed with the faint rays of moonlight that swam in through the window.

Such actions from the Commander would have concerned the older man, had the boy not looked significantly healthier than when they last met. It seemed impossible for those shaded circles under sleepless eyes to be nothing but faint traces, especially when the Commander didn't show any signs of having changed his sleeping pattern after leaving their hotel room in the middle of the night.

With a scoff, the longhaired man turned on his side and conceded that it was probably the knight's doing. As President of Esthar, he could never forgive the blond. As a father, he felt instinctively protective of the son he hardly knew, and didn't want Squall anywhere near Seifer Almasy. But, as a man, who was too kind for his own good, he couldn't help but be happy that the Commander had found someone so suiting.

* * *

"Where've you been?" Irvine drawled lazily from Selphie's couch. 

The gunman's long legs were crossed and set on one armrest while his head was on the other. Having finally found a suitable replacement for his ruined hat, his face was hidden beneath the black leather headdress.

Selphie nearly yelped in surprise, one hand halfway to grabbing her nunchaku. With her other hand behind her back, she crept along the backside of the couch. "I didn't know you were here," she said nervously.

Violet eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I live here," the auburn haired gunman pointed out. "What's behind your back?" he questioned, seeing the obvious manner in which the energetic woman tried to hide something.

"Nothing," Selphie assured. In a mad dash she sprinted to her room. The sound of Irvine getting up from the couch spurred an instinctive feel of excited adrenaline.

Slamming the door behind her, she cursed that there were no locks on the inner bedrooms. Green eyes darted around quickly. As her gaze fell upon each area she automatically deemed it unfit for hiding her camera bag. From the dresser and the closet, to the nightstand and the beanbag chair in the corner.

At the calm and unobtrusive knocking on her door, she gave a small squeak and hastily unzipped the black camera bag she held. Grabbing the rolls of film and digital memory card, she stuffed them down her jumper. Zipper her outer sweat jacket up, she pat her chest to try and smooth it over.

"Darlin'" the gunman's voice drawled form the other side of the door, "What're you up to?"

"Um," the copper haired girl floundered for an excuse. "I have to go see Seifer," she stated, opening the door.

Irvine's tall form filled the doorway. Passively, he stepped aside to let her leave. "You didn't blow anything up, did you?" he asked seriously. If he had to put out another fire or explain to Squall how he'd let her out of his sight again, he'd rather get it over with as soon as possible.

Grinning impishly, Selphie spoke quickly and kept her back to the tall sharpshooter, lest he notice the odd lumps protruding from her chest. "I went to Fisherman's Horizon to follow Squall and Laguna," she admitted.

The last thing she wanted was for Irvine to see the pictures she'd taken. She was trying to be patient and wait for his little crush to run its course, but if she went around showing him soft-core porn of the Commander, then she'd never get married.

"Why do you have to see Almasy?" Irvine asked a bit coldly, possessively placing two hands on the young woman's shoulders.

Frowning, Selphie pursed her lips. "Just cause he's dating Squall doesn't mean you can suddenly dislike him," she defended. As odd as the crossroads of affections were running these days, she couldn't help but uphold her sound judgment of right and wrong. Besides, she was an avid fan of the relationship, which meant she didn't like to hear bad things about it.

Violet eyes hardened. With a reassuring squeeze to the small girl's slender shoulders, he said, "I know, but you also know how I feel about it all."

"Yeah," Selphie whispered with a faint note of the sadness she felt. "You like Squall," she stated.

"Hey," the gunman cooed, leaning down and wrapping his arms around the cheerful girl. "It's like you said, I'm just jealous. We both know you're the only one for me."

A pained expression crossed the copper haired woman's face. It was a good thing her back was turned. Reaching up, she smoothed over the material of Irvine's dark purple shirt. "I know," she chirped happily. She even managed to force a believable giggle.

"What's this?" Irvine questioned while groping Selphie's breasts and the odd objects hidden nearby.

With a hard slap to the back of the gunman's hand, Selphie pulled free. "Lecher!" she cried.

"What've you got hidden in there?" he asked, a small smirk spreading across his lips.

"Nothing," Selphie stated, turning around and backing away carefully.

Grinning now, Irvine followed her. "Should I open it up and see?"

"It's just some pictures."

"Of?" the gunman pressed. Upon seeing green eyes dart around the room, he added, "You can't lie to me."

With a heavy sigh, Selphie gave in. "Squall and Laguna," she said lamely.

"Any why aren't I allowed to see?" Irvine asked with confusion.

"Cause his nipples were showing," Selphie whined, "And they were holding each other, and he was wet, and you'll have a bigger crush."

Confused beyond even trying to understand the girl, Irvine declared, "Darlin' you're makin' no sense."

Selphie groaned, expressing her want to drop the matter.

With a dismissive shrug, the gunman changed the subject. "I'm surprised you haven't asked why I was waiting for you."

"Eh?" Selphie intoned with curiosity, her green eyes going a bit wider. "Why were you waiting for me?" Checking her watch, she realized that it was nearly ten o'clock. They had early classes on Mondays, so they usually turned in around nine.

With a knowing grin, Irvine said, "Because you've been gone all day, and I've got some news."

"News, what news?" Selphie asked, looking around as though the news was some person standing in the corner.

Unable to hide a broader smile, the gunman could already picture the energetic girl bouncing off the walls. "Zell got married," he stated evenly.

Dumbly, green eyes stared at the cowboy. After a few moments, those same eyes widened. Selphie's mouth fell open before shutting and then repeating the same action. "Is this a joke?" she finally spoke.

"His weekend with Greta in Balamb was so they could elope," the gunman stated. Laughing at the small girl's reaction, he waited with anticipation for everything to set in.

Selphie blinked several times, her mind churning all the information over. Zell had been talking about the head chef a lot lately, but the blond haired fighter had never mentioned they were dating. Since when did he keep secrets? Though, spending a weekend together probably should have created some suspicion of a relationship, especially when he said it was to bring her home to his mother.

With a joyous squeal, Selphie jumped up and down. "Where is he?" she cried.

"Honeymoon," Irvine said. "He came by to let us know and to say goodbye. He was a little bummed that no one was around, but it wasn't like he gave us any warning. He said he'd be back for the festival and all that jazz.

Selphie stopped bouncing abruptly. "Oh no!" the cried in dismay. "Greta was our head chef. How will we make all the food? I have cakes and pie and cookies and chocolates and more cakes and brownies and… and… all the food," she spouted off quickly. "I'll kill 'em," she announced, pushing her sleeves up and making to stomp to the door.

Irvine watched in amusement as Selphie realized that Zell was nowhere to be found. "He's in Deling City. That's where Greta's family is."

"I don't even know her last name," Selphie pouted.

"It's Menavich," Irvine supplied.

"I didn't know they were dating," Selphie continued to pout.

With a thoughtful hand on his chin, Irvine admitted, "Neither did I. But, I think it was just one of those things that happen really fast. If they were together any longer than a couple weeks, I would have noticed, I'm sure of it."

"I need to develop my pictures," she stated. She needed a pick-me-up. Printing hard copies of a wet t-shirt wearing Squall and showing them to Seifer was exactly what would help.

Numbly, Selphie walked to the door. Zell was married. That was just bizarre. And, he hadn't included any of them. He'd pay for that dearly when he came back. Then again, if they were really as close as she would like to believe, how hadn't any of them known?

"Can I come with?" Irvine asked.

"No," Selphie said, half heartedly raising a hand in goodbye.

Grumbling, Irvine called after her, "I'm sleeping in your bed tonight."

* * *

Selphie's mood had brightened a bit after showing Seifer the pictures. The blond knight had stared at them before demanding to know when the Commander was coming back. After she relayed the message that Squall was spending the night away, the ex-knight had grumbled about how Sundays were his least favorite day and stalked off. 

Next on her agenda was to seek out Quistis. It didn't matter that it was getting late or that she had work the next day. After hearing about Zell, she had to ask everyone for details and see who knew the most.

However, the Head Instructor didn't appreciate being woken up by Selphie jumping up and down on her bed, so she was thrown out.

Resigned to going back to her apartment, the energetic girl wondered if being with Irvine in such an unrequited manner was okay. Would she slowly deteriorate if the gunman never looked her way? Was seeking his comforting arms during the night right, when she knew his eyes weren't settled solely on her?

It was a heavy burden that was weighing heavier on her heart each time she saw violet eyes follow the Commander. Still, the only relief came when the handsome ladies' man held her. It was a vicious cycle that she'd have to find some way to break.

But, she had faith. Irvine had already changed so much just for her. The gunman could have continued to chase every pretty girl in sight, but he didn't. Instead, it was a well-known fact that they doubled up together and that she was number one in the renowned pretty-boy's eyes. Even if that was no longer true, she had faith that it would be with time.

Her love was not misplaced. One of these days, they would definitely settle down together. She just had to remind herself that these struggling moments were what made the end result worth it.

* * *

Clear starry skies made for a perfect viewing of the half moon nearing the horizon. It was chilly, but that just served to keep the Commander awake. 

As a lone figure in the silent night, Squall stood on the far end of the long dock that stretched a fair distance out over the shifting waves. With his hands buried deep within the front pocket of the borrowed gray hoodie, he stared off into the dark waters and pale moonlight.

There was a constant sea breeze, the nighttime bringing wind inland. FH wasn't much of an island, but surrounded by water, the effect was not lost.

The brunet's thoughts were consumed by the events of the past week.

This time, one week ago, he'd been returning to his apartment after a night of investigating rumors about Rinoa's presence in Winhill.

He'd been foolish not to know why she'd suddenly left. But, she'd been a greater fool for not knowing the panic it would cause him.

Seifer was right, the raven-haired girl was just a child in comparison to himself. There was no way he could have ever been happy with her. He should have suspected his own feelings instead of repressing them and pretending like they didn't exist. Those lonely nights when they'd slept beside one another, and he'd held her, he was just searching for something. The fact that he retained a hollow feeling of longing inside should have clued him onto the fact that he obviously wasn't finding what he needed with her.

Laguna might be right about him being different. Maybe Rinoa wasn't a child, but he was just too different from the civilians that made up most the populace. Perhaps, the only people he could even be comfortable around were people just like him, mercenaries and fighters.

He'd also been a fool not to realize the true depth his relationship with Seifer had always held. Now that he looked back, it was so obvious.

So great was this feeling of fulfillment that he'd finally found that he couldn't rest without it. It wasn't some distant emptiness that he could ignore during the night anymore. Now that he knew what that feeling of loss was, his body wouldn't quite until it received what it wanted. A warm touch and comforting arms.

Squall wondered if the world would condemn Seifer for being a knight now. Certainly, the post war affair had been settled, no actions taken against the blond. But, that was only because most people were under the impression that Seifer had been controlled by Ultimecia. The people of Esthar knew better, but they were living like hermits and took no part in casting judgment.

Yet, once their relationship went public, Seifer's background would be brought up again and scrutinized under a magnifying glass. There was no possible way of keeping things a secret. It was a miracle they'd lasted this long. The media and press were constantly lurking in every corner, and the two of them couldn't seem to keep their hands off each other.

Even if they followed strict rules and talked in code, it would eventually leak. Besides, he didn't want to hide it. Though, he also didn't want to make any announcements. Good or bad, he honestly didn't care how the world perceived it. The opinions of others didn't matter.

So much had happened in such a short period of time. But, if they had truly been pining for each other, deep within their subconscious, then they'd been waiting a lifetime.

Squall gave a small smile at the irony involved in their relationship prior to the war. He hated to admit it, but it truly was clichéd. Rivals harboring feelings of want for one another, the thin line between love and hate. Not realizing any of it until their eyes were opened by being separated.

Stubborn to the end, the Commander hadn't realized the true depth of his feelings until his Guardian had shown him the ultimate vision of loss.

On some level, had he always been waiting for Seifer? With no previous relationships before Rinoa, he'd remained an eighteen-year-old virgin. While he hadn't put much weight on the little fact, it was suspicious how his body was suddenly so eager once it received the gruff and strong touch of his former rival. Only around Seifer, he acted with emotion and the feelings that everyone else thought he should show more of, laughing and smiling. He wondered if it was somehow a fated coupling. It was beyond annoying to reveal his thoughts and feelings to others. But, with Seifer, it wasn't so bad. The blond knight changed him, turned his mind about and made his body lose control. No one else could ever do that to him.

There were still so many unanswered questions. Just as many as from the start. The only difference was that now he didn't need answers. During empty hours he might ponder over them, but he no longer needed to have closure for every little detail in his life.

Footsteps sounded from behind. The slow and steady pace was unmistakable. Squall continued to stare off at the horizon, his outer demeanor unchanged. However as the steps drew nearer and his mind filled with images, a small shiver ran through his body.

His heart began to beat faster and he had to force himself not to turn around.

When the new arrival came within a few steps from him, the brunet let out a small gasp of air. Anticipation flowed through him. He wanted to be touched, to be held, and to wrap his arms around Seifer's broader form. He wanted to burrow his face close to the blond's warm neck and inhale that spicy scent. He wanted to kiss the man, and to be filled within the throws of lustful sex.

The thudded steps stopped, and Squall could feel the heat radiating off the newcomer. Another shiver wracked his body, this time making him shutter as a heat began to stir within.

A strong breeze picked up. The sound of fluttering fabric reached the brunet's ears. It was no doubt the long black trench coat flapping in the wind. Unable to contain himself, Squall took a small step and was about to turn around. He was stopped, however, as strong arms suddenly encircled him.

Pulled flush against the knight's body, Squall tore his hands from his front pocket and gripped the arms across his chest in a returned action. After a moment, he let one hand release the hold on Seifer's forearm and trail up. Reaching back, he let delicate fingers trail over the rough and unshaven cheek of the blond. With a small smirk, he relished in the feel, but also knew the arrogant man had done it to annoy him. The stubble tickled him, something the knight would no doubt use against him.

As a breathy sigh was released from the tall man behind him, he drew a line across Seifer's cheek.

Seifer leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the brunet's shoulder. "Couldn't sleep?" the baritone voice asked.

"I'm not the only one," Squall replied softly, gently entwining his fingers in soft blond hair.

"Squall," Seifer breathed out longingly, turning to trail his lips across the pale flesh of a smooth and slender neck.

Squall let his eyes close for a moment while tilting his head to the side and giving Seifer more room to work. Wanting more, he retracted his hand and stirred within the blond's hold.

The ex-knight loosened his grip, stepping forward as the Commander began to turn. He wanted to see Squall clearly, in the moonlight. Reaching out, he tilted the pale man's chin upwards, studying the delicate features. Running a thumb across an inviting bottom lip, he let his green eyes search enchanting blue irises.

The blond had been restless until he spotted the brunet's slender figure silhouetted in against the night sky. With each step that had brought him closer, the urge to sprint ahead had consumed him.

Eyebrows drawn in concern, Seifer abruptly took hold of the Commander's attractive face and spoke solemnly, "You'll stay with me?"

Bright blue eyes searched the knight's for some hidden meaning. However, Squall found the answer came much easier if he didn't think about it. "Forever," he whispered. Turning his head, he gave a soft kiss to Seifer's palm. It was a sentiment that he never thought he'd utter, but felt so right when he said it.

Seifer dipped his head to capture Squall's lips. His arms returned to holding that smaller form which fit so perfectly against his own.

Drawn out and lustful, they kissed for some time. Considering it was not the place to be jumping each other, they satisfied themselves with feverish kisses and touches. Gentle and gruff, they couldn't bear to lose contact. It felt too good to let go.

After so many years of being right in front of each other, they'd finally found each other.

THE END

A/N I hope you enjoyed the story. I know I had a lot of fun writing it. There is a **sequel**, called Strings Attached


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